PS I Miss You: Letters From Afghanistan
by love.devil.movies.baby
Summary: Companion piece to The Warrior's Way. An intimate peek at the letters exchanged between Tommy and Nicole while Tommy was overseas. Tommy isn't much for grand romantic gestures, but that does not stop him from writing love letters. Tommy/OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A few of you have been asking for a sequel to ****_the Warrior's Way. _****My beta, Tallulah Lullah, came up with an excellent suggestion for a companion piece. I hope you all enjoy. Please review!**

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters associated with ****_Warrior_****. This is just an exercise in creativity and is not to be used for profit in any way.**

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It's the same here as it was when I left. I don't know why I expected something different. I guess, you figure after seeing all that shit happen, there would be some sign of it. But the dirt is still that cream color; the blood has washed away. You'd never know anything happened here if someone didn't tell you. But I can't forget.

Every time I look at that goddamn sand, it's reminding me. I can see it stained crimson, see my boy Manny bleeding out. I never knew a person had that much blood. Shocks you when you see it. The things grown men scream for: their mother's, their sweethearts. Sometimes it's just screaming for the pain to stop. I hear them when I fall asleep, and sometimes I wake up, screaming right along with them.

No one here has the balls to say anything. A couple of these guys are caught up in nightmares of their own, but most of them are just boys. I want to beat them, break their legs, give them any reason to get the fuck outta here. Because once the nightmares start, they don't quit. And pretty soon everything is like a bad dream.

It helps though, to have something else to think about. My something else is a girl way across the pond. I ain't never been the romantic type, never even been in a relationship. But something about this girl's got me thinking fruity thoughts. I only slept with her once, but I can't stop replaying it in my head. Every man has a spank bank, a go to list when things get lonely. But there's something about her, something about her kisses and her touches and her voice. Any red blooded man can see that she's a stunner, but she's got something more than that. She gives a shit about people, including me. She cares when she's got no reason to. She makes me feel good.

I haven't felt good in a long fucking time.

I don't have pills anymore, don't have booze and I sure as shit can't wrestle out in this damn desert. But I can write. It ain't gonna be Shakespeare, and I'm hoping she's not waiting on long love letters with glitter and rose petals in them. But something's telling me she wants to hear from me. And I want to hear from her. So I guess I'll write her. I got a book I brought over with me, a gift from Brendan. It's nothing fancy, just a black leather cover and some normal lined paper. Brendan didn't say nothing, just handed it to me as I left. It's not easy taking gifts from him, especially after he gave me 2 million dollars. That was something I wanted to earn, something I had to do. I'm trying not to be pissed about it. After all, ma always said it was the thought that counted.

Since he gave it to me, I figure I'll scribble something to Brendan first. I don't know what you write to a guy you didn't see for 14 years. So I leave feelings out of it. I tell him what I see, the dirt, the sun, the people living in such piss poor conditions that it makes the Burgh look like the Taj Mahal. I ask about his daughters, and even Tess. And I sign it with love. Hell, he told me he loved me. I can return the damn favor.

I'm thinking I should write to Pop, but I don't feel like. And Pilar, I don't want to put anymore shit on her. She knows too much about my problems anyway and she's got her own to deal with.

Next thing I know, I'm writing Nicole.

It's harder than I thought it'd be. I don't know what to say. I don't want to sound like an idiot, especially since she's so damn smart. I don't want to sound like I'm whining or complaining. And I don't want to sound like some lovesick teenager. I write it all down in my book first, where I can see it, before I put it in an email. Hate to admit it, but this damn book is growing on me. It's the only time the boys leave me alone, when I'm writing. I'm a Corporal, which means I outrank them enough where they'll never ask me what I'm scribbling in it. It ain't worth the ass kicking they'll get if they sneak a peek at it. It's my own private thoughts, the one thing I've got out here that belongs only to me. Everything out here is shared, the beds, the shower, meals, training. There's no alone time. So we find ways to make our own. Most guys just pull the blankets over their head and handle their business. I ain't going to say that I don't from time to time, but I kind of like this writing thing, even if I'm no good at it. It takes me three tries, but finally, I come up with something decent:

_Nicole,_

_ There ain't much to do out here but sit and wait. It's hot as hell, and they have us packed into these canvas tents that don't do much to keep the heat out. There's ten guys in here with me. I'm the oldest. They're always looking at me, trying to talk. It's like they've got a crush. Everywhere I walk, someone's eyes are following me. I don't like it at all, but it is what it is. I'm waiting for someone to have the stones to say something. I think the kid in the bunk above mine might be first. I wonder what he'll ask. _

_ If I could get through the next 6 months without saying a word, I would. I don't have nothing to say to these boys. They're looking at me like I'm a saint, like I did something good. All I can do is fight. Anything good that I have ever said, you coached me through. So maybe I should forward all of their questions to you. You've got time for that right? Especially with that bleeding heart you've got. Never met a woman who cared as much as you do._

_ There's a couple gals up here, but they're nothing to write home about, so I won't. It's no wonder men are smuggling nudie magazines like they're gold. Man's got needs. I ain't going to lie, sometimes you come up on television and the boys get excited. It's more than just me laying around thinking about you. _

_ What's it like over there? Is it getting cold yet? Maybe you could send some of that weather this way. We damn sure could use it. _

_Tommy_

_P.S. I miss you. _

I put that thing in the mail before I can think too much about it. Nearly killed me, writing that P.S. I must have erased it 10 times before it stuck. I hope she doesn't think I'm a pussy. Brendan used to tell me girls loved that fruity crap. It must've worked with Tess. Maybe it'll work on Nicole.

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**Thoughts? Chapter 2 is coming...**


	2. Chapter 2

Her letter is flickering on a computer screen not a day after I sent mine off. The Master Sergeant yelled for me right after breakfast, shouting about me having an email. It surprised me a little bit. I never got letters before, not unless Pilar sent something for me with her packages for Manny. I flop down in the computer chair, prepared to see some words from Brendan, or maybe Pop. Instead, I see this:

_Dear Tommy, _

_ I was glad to see your letter. To answer your question, yes, it is starting to get cold here. I need to start getting out my winter clothing. It makes me miss Los Angeles. There is still a California girl in me, and even though Connecticut is beautiful, I miss the beach. Have you ever been to a Cali beach? Most of them are crowded and dirty, but some of them still are beautiful. I love lying in the sand, feeling the waves lick up my legs. There is no better feeling than being at the ocean. When you come back, we should go. It puts life in perspective somehow. _

_ It is no wonder that the men out there love you. You should see all the attention you are still getting out here. My coworkers ask about you all of the time, especially my friend Gavin. I think he has figured out that something happened between us. I have not told him the details and he has not said anything to anyone. He is probably the only one at work I can trust. Everyone else would report what I said before I could even finish my sentence (it is the problem with having journalist friends). You are a big deal out here. If they are not talking about your future as a fighter, they are talking about what you going back means. Whether you like it or not, you changed things. People are going to want to talk to you. _

_ You should talk back. I do not mean to lecture, but you undersell yourself. There is something about the way you speak; you are so honest. It is a rare quality. I miss talking to you. I miss your bluntness and your deadpan jokes. Do me a favor? Don't lose that side of yourself. It is more beautiful than you know. _

_ If you want, you can send me the other marines' questions. I can coach you on how to answer them. But, to be honest, I think you can handle it yourself. They aren't looking for my insights, but yours. Maybe just try listening. Half of the time, people just need someone who will listen to them. _

_ As for your needs, I could send you some magazines, but I really do not want you comparing me to them. Call it girlish insecurity, but I like being the one you think about. I think about you too, especially at night. _

_ I miss you Tommy. Be safe and keep your head down. I hope I see you soon. _

_Nicole_

I read her letter twice. It bothers me that it's on the computer. I want a paper copy, something old-fashioned. I end up copying it into my book, where I can read it wherever I want to. I wish it was in her handwriting instead of my chicken scratch. She probably has girlie handwriting, with loops and pretty swirls.

When I copy the part where she said that she thinks about me, I stop. I feel my ego swell up. The thought of her laying on a beach is enough to get my blood going. Nicole could have any man she wants, and she's thinking about me at night. I wish I was there with her, wish she was naked under me, panting my name. Those thoughts do me no good over here. I can't even see her, can't touch her. I pull my mind out of the gutter and focus on the rest of what she said.

She wants me to talk to the privates. It ain't like I've got anything against them, but they're all kids. The world probably hasn't knocked them too hard over the head yet. When I enlisted, I was already broken. I stomped around, I didn't talk, and I beat the shit outta guys in training. The Corps didn't mind my anger, it was an asset. It wasn't till I met Manny that I started feeling like myself again. Guess I was looking for a brother figure. As a kid, I used to follow Brendan around like a duckling, but he was always good to me. Broke my heart when he picked Tess over me and ma. I don't think I'll ever understand it. I don't know if I'll ever forgive him.

But Manny left me too. And then I didn't have a brother at all. But now Brendan's trying and Pop's trying and even Tess is trying to win me back. Maybe I owe it to them to let them. But it's gonna take time. Good thing it's all I got out here.

It'd be nice to laugh again, joke around. I was a prankster as a kid, always in time out or detention for some shit I pulled. Brendan used to help me when I was filling up water balloons or whoopee cushions or putting buckets of water on doorways. I didn't laugh for a year after ma died. Not until Manny cracked a joke in basic training. We got paired up for sparring. Surprised the hell out of me when he didn't go down without a fight. He managed to split my lip and I paid him back with a black eye. Instead of getting pissed he looked at me and laughed and asked if I wanted to be his friend.

He was the best friend I ever had. I miss him every day. It's hard when Pilar sends me pictures of the kids; they look just like him. Reminds me of all the dreams he had for them, all the plans for when he got out. He had everything to live for and I had nothing and I'm the one standing here today. The world don't make an ounce of sense.

I must look like I'm thinking really hard because my bunkmate is looking up at me like he wants to say something. I stare back at him, waiting for him to slink off with his tale between his legs. It takes him about ten seconds to back down but as he starts to walk away, I remember what Nicole wrote. And all the sudden, I find myself talking.

"Did you need something?" I'm aware that my question sounds like a challenge, but I don't know any other way of talking. The kid nearly pisses himself.

"I was just wondering if you were all right, Corporal Conlon," he's stuttering all over the place.

"I'm fine."

"Good, you just looked…" he trails off again.

"Just thinking," I tell him.

"About what?"

I stop, trying to decide what to tell him. I'm quiet for so long that he starts to pace back and forth, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He starts to turn around again, but then I speak.

"'Bout life, I guess."

"It's about the only thing you can do out here," he says. His answer surprises me. The kid can't be more than 19.

"What do you know about life?" I chuckle a little bit. It almost hurts my throat. I need to practice laughing more.

"I know it can be shit," he says. And then, all of the sudden, he's telling me his life story like I'm a goddamn journal. It looks like Nicole was right; this kid (his name's Drew) found someone to listen to him and he's talking a mile a minute about being a foster kid, his life of hard knocks. I don't say anything, but I don't have to. Drew sits down backwards in a chair, stares at the ground and tells a total stranger things I wouldn't even tell my family. By the time he gets it all out, it's time for training. Drew partners up with me for sparring. Everyone is looking at him like he's got brass balls. I give him a nod before I lay him out face down on the mat. It has to hurt like hell, but he gets up grinning like a damn fool. The rest of the regiment cheers him on, and even I have to smile.

I think I just made a friend.

It takes another two days before I am sure of it. And now that the rest of the guys found out I can talk, they're jumping over each other trying to chat with me. I feel like a counselor. I've heard more sob stories in the last 48 hours than I've heard my whole life. But every kid who tells me something strangely makes me feel a little better. Misery loves company.

I write to Nicole about it:

_Nicole,_

_ I took your advice. Now these damn kids won't shut up. I might as well put a hat out and charge by the half hour. Seems like everyone here has a story to tell, and half of them are shitty. Is this how you felt when you talked to me?_

_ They've got me teaching kids how to wrestle. It ain't fair. It's like beating up school girls. These boys have no idea how to fight at all. One kid managed to knock me over at least, but to be honest, I was spacing out when he did it. The whole regiment is proud of him though.  
_

_ Don't worry about the magazines. I wouldn't use them anyway. If you want to send me a picture of yourself though, I'd be cool with that. It doesn't have to be nothing fancy. I can send you one of me too, if that makes it fair. I'll even do a little photo shoot. I'm sure one of the guys will help me out. They seem to get off just hanging around me. _

_ Pop's been writing to me. Sometimes it's hard to read what he sends. Half the time it doesn't make sense. I get the feeling he wants to say something specific to me, but he doesn't know how to write it. Brendan's letters are a little bit better, but they're kinda sappy. I guess some people go their whole lives telling their brothers their feelings, but the Conlon's ain't built like that. I don't know what to say most of the time. I just keep talking about what's going on out here. It's easier than actually saying something._

_ How have you been? Still thinking about me at night? What exactly are you thinking about?_

_ Still miss you._

_Tommy_

Her letter comes back quickly, just like her first. I copy it down with the other one.

_Well Mr. Conlon,_

_ I do believe you are flirting with me. It would hardly be proper for a nice young lady like myself to divulge such vulgar details to you. You are going to have to use your imagination, sir, to fill in the blanks. _

_ Do you like my southern accent? I realize that you cannot hear it, but I figured you might get a kick out of it anyway. And no, talking to you is not a chore and I doubt it ever will be. I love talking to you._

_ Go easy on those guys. I doubt the Corps wants them all beat up before they actually do any fighting. You haven't been fighting have you? Every time I hear something on the news, I am afraid it is you they are talking about. Would you tell me, if you had to actually go to war? Please tell me. I will worry (more than I already do) if you do not._

_ I am glad to hear that your family is writing to you. They call me every once in a while, just to check up. It is going to take time, I think, before you are totally comfortable with them, but you guys are taking steps in the right direction. Keep it up, jarhead. _

_ And I'm sending you a picture, the old-fashioned way, in the mail. Be ready for it Conlon. It will knock your socks off._

_ I miss you Tommy._

_Nicole_

Her picture does come, a week after her email. I open it in private, away from other eyes, just in case. I feel like a kid on Christmas. When I shake it out of the envelope, it falls out on my lap and I start to laugh right away. I laugh so hard that Drew comes running in, trying to see what's wrong. In the end, he has to just pull it out of my hand to see.

Nicole is standing there in the self-portrait, dressed in a white tank top and Superman panties, with half her hair straight and the other half curly, pulling the most unattractive face I have ever seen. She's got some sort of torture looking thing in her hand that I figure must be a hair straightener. It isn't what I expected at all, but I can't stop laughing. I laugh until my sides hurt and pass the picture around, letting the other guys laugh along with me.

"Is this your girl?" Drew asks me.

"Yeah," I smile at Nicole's picture. "Yeah it is."

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**Review please!  
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	3. Chapter 3

_Nicole,_

_We got shot at today. It's crazy, how quickly your body can go through so many things. At the first pop, I felt panicked, the way I always do, no matter how many times it happens. But then the survival instinct kicked in. I hit the ground, pulled my gun out, crawled to cover, and shouted orders all in about 10 seconds. A kid next to me got hit. The blood went spraying and he fell to the ground. I was over to him before the dirt even settled, jabbing my fingers at him, feeling for a pulse. _

I haven't prayed in a long time, but I think the whole rosary ran through my head in a half second when I felt his heartbeat. He's ok now, recovering from a shallow abdomen wound. At least, that's what the medic told me. Normally I don't trust those guys, but they let me in to see him. The kid's name is Chris. He'll be 21 next week. We were supposed to have a party for him when we got back stateside.

He'll be in the hospital for his birthday.

It's got me all twisted up for some reason. I couldn't stop shaking. The boys didn't say anything, but I know they saw it. I feel sick. All I wanna do is sleep, but I'm afraid of the dreams I'll have. One little fucking bullet undid every scrap of happiness I've felt for weeks.

I hate it here.

I write Nicole and tell her this. It's short. I don't want to, and can't, go into too much detail. I give her the basics, the kid's first name, what happened. It takes up less than half a page in my book. Her letter comes back a few days later, the snail mail way. Her handwriting is what I thought it would be. It's tiny and loopy and slants up on the unlined paper. Her words fill three small stationary pages.

_Dear Tommy,_

_It took me a long time to write this letter. I wanted to write how sorry I was, but I realized that those words do not even begin to cover how I feel. I know this boy only through your letters, and the details have been scarce. I am sorry that Chris was shot; I am relieved he is alive and I pray he will be all right. But the person I am most worried about is you. _

_You put up a tough front Tommy, but I know you are upset. I see it written all over your last letter. I wish I was there. I wish I was holding your hand, hugging you, kissing you. I wish I could make the hell you are in disappear, bring you home and make you whole. I want to book a flight, tell the government to fuck itself and pull you out of that damn desert. But I am here and you are there, and even though I try to hide it, it makes me sadder than you know. _

_Please do not be afraid to write these things to me. The empty spaces in your letters speak of horrors you are not ready to share with me. If you do not want to tell me, tell Brendan. Tell your Pop. Tell a counselor. But please, Tommy, tell someone. Don't let these things stay inside of you where they tear you up and feed your anger. _

_I am privileged enough to not know the true nature of war. It takes a strong person, a person of great character, to deal with what you deal with. You will come through this. You will come home. And somehow, it will be ok. I know it sounds like an empty promise, but you have to believe it. There are people waiting for you, praying for you, thinking about you. It has to be ok. _

_The world will settle down and I will see you again. _

_I don't care where you go. If you come back to Pittsburgh, I will be there to meet you. If you go to Philadelphia, I will take the train out. If you come to Bristol, I will be at the door before you even get out of the car. Anywhere you go, I will be there to see you. I miss you that much. I know it sounds forward, and maybe even ridiculous. We have known each other less than a year. But the situations we have been in and the things you have told me make me eager to see a side of you I have only caught glimpses of. _

_It sounds impossible, but you will laugh again. And smile. You will wake up on your own time; do what you feel like doing when you feel like doing it. Your life will be yours, full of possibility. And whatever you aspire to- fighting again, or going to school or farming or dancing, whatever it is—you will do it. And every day that you wake up, all that you have gone through will hurt less and less, until you barely feel it at all. _

_That is what I want for you, and for Chris. That is what you deserve._

_If I could send you a kiss in a letter, I would. For now, these pictures will have to suffice. I hope that they do not seem inappropriate, but distract you instead._

_As always, I miss you Tommy. Please take care of yourself. _

_Nicole_

A package came with it. I read her letter 3 times before I get to it. Just the sight of that ink on the paper makes me feel better. I can picture her writing it, maybe even crying when she did it. I should feel bad, making her cry, but it's nice, just once, to have someone crying for me. I feel like a loaded rifle, ready to explode. It's like being a kid, having a temper tantrum. Life isn't fair. My whole 29 years, it's been beating my ass, kicking me when I was down. Taking away everything good.

But now it's given me Nicole. She's like an angel, like something I made up in my mind. But here in my hand is proof, handwritten proof that she gives a damn about me. The first woman since my mom died who cares about me is hundreds of miles away, in a city I ain't never been to, writing me letters and telling me it's going to be ok. I want to believe her, but that's not a good idea. Every time I think something is going to be ok, it all goes to hell.

I swallow the lump in my throat and tear open the cardboard of the box she sent me. She said it was a distraction. God knows I need one.

A stack of CDs fall out. They're labeled in her neat handwriting, listing tracks. I think for a second that it's music. I've never been the biggest fan of music, beyond it being just background noise. But anything Nicole likes, I'm willing to listen to. I pop it into my walkman and put the headphones over my ears as I open the rest of what she sent me.

When I hear a man's voice, not singing, but talking, I start to listen harder. She's sent me a CD of comedians whose names I don't know. They're talking about everything, drugs, sex, relationships, even the war. Shit that has never been funny to me. But as the CD plays and I look at the rest of what she sent—a stack of pictures of landscapes and a few of her (my favorite is one of her in a bikini on a beach, but there's a nice one of her sitting in the middle of a pile of fall colored leaves), some stories on the MMA world, a box of Oreo cookies and a Sports Illustrated magazine—I find myself smiling a little bit. It's not an all-out laugh. I'm still too fucked up to laugh. But it's funny enough that it's taking my mind off shit.

I bring the CD to Chris on his birthday. He has me put it on right there by his hospital bed, blasting cuss words loud enough for everyone to hear. He starts laughing so hard that he almost pulls a stitch out. A couple of guys from our tent show up, with the Oreos arranged to spell out "Happy Birthday." And even though it's just a bunch of men, sweating their asses off in a shitty excuse for a hospital and eating cookies without milk, Chris tells us he's having a good birthday. And for whatever reason, that makes me feel good.

Training kicks up and we're put through so many scenarios that it's half a week before I get my book out again. Nicole's last letter is tucked in the pages now, folded in half. It's already starting to fall apart a little, but I found some tape to hold the creases together. I read it every night. Sometimes it keeps the nightmares away. Sometimes it don't. But it makes me feel better.

_Nicole,_

_ Your last letter was nice. You've got pretty handwriting. If this journalism thing don't work out, you can write letters for a living. _

_ Chris is doing good. He's out of the hospital and back bothering me, but I ain't complaining too much. It's better than what could have happened. And I'm doing better too. You shouldn't worry so much. That shit gives you wrinkles._

_ I got your picture tacked up on my bunk. It's nice to look at you before I go to sleep. You give me good dreams. Last night, I dreamed you came out of the picture and joined me in bed. It's the best dream I've had in weeks. _

_ It's been quiet over here. It's the way I like it. It's even starting to cool down, enough for us to go out and play football. I know you're reporting on it back in the States. Who's winning? How are the Eagles doing? Is Vick making a comeback?_

_ Don't let any of those football boys hit on you. They're are the worst. You're better off dating a broken Marine than a football player. Plus, most of them are fat. You're too pretty for a fat guy. You gotta date a guy with a six pack, not a keg. Just in case you forgot, I'm sending you a picture of me not wearing a shirt. _

_Last week when 9-11 passed, we had a ceremony thing over here. I think they wanted it to motivate us to keep fighting, but it depressed the hell outta me. There's a lot of shit going on in the world and I don't want to be part of it anymore. When I get back, I hope I never see a gun again. _

_ I've been thinking about that beach you mentioned a while ago. It'd be nice to sit in sand without it burning me. It'd be even nicer if you were laying next to me, all wet in that purple bikini. Any chance of that happening?_

_ Miss you._

_ Yours,_

_ Tommy_

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**Thank you all, as always, for your kind words and enthusiasm. I hope you are all enjoying the story. Review please!  
**


	4. Chapter 4

"Corporal Conlon!" Drew bursts into our tent, looking like he's just run a mile.

I'm only half dressed at this point. I just got out of the shower and was looking forward to doing nothing for a few minutes. It ain't easy staying in fighting shape so far away from a gym, but I'm giving it my best shot. Working out is easy, but eating enough to bulk up is damn near impossible. The food out here is shit and I ain't eager to eat more of it than I have to. Makes me miss my Ma's cooking. Shit, it makes me miss Pop's piss poor excuse for cuisine. I wonder if Nicole can cook.

"What is it?" I try not to sound pissed off.

"You got a huge box in the mail, sir." Drew looks more excited than he has the right to be.

"What's that gotta do with you?" I shrug on a green t shirt.

"It's, well... it's addressed to all of us. But we wanted to wait for you to open it," Drew looks like Christmas came early. If I keep him waiting any longer, he's gonna piss himself.

"I'm coming." I follow him out of the tent and into the common area. He wasn't exaggerating. The box is big enough to fit a fridge. I feel the eyes of everyone watching me as I slice the tape apart and pull it open. There's an envelope on top, addressed to me. I pocket it without opening it. I want to enjoy it without everyone watching.

Styrofoam peanuts start flying everywhere as I pull everything out of the box, one thing at a time. There's a stack of DVDs on top, each labeled with a date and the name of a sports team. I barely sit them down before the boys are on them, dragging out a TV and shoving them in.

The first one cues up and it's a video of Michael Vick. Half the guys start shouting in surprise. It takes a whole minute to settle them down enough to hear what's being said on the video. Vick is talking to us, directly to us, using some of our names. He's saying the same crap people normally say to the troops, all that stuff about appreciation and we're behind you. A bunch of his teammates run in and out, promising to play hard with us in mind. The guys look stunned. Half of them are still kids, and these are their heroes on screen. While they watch the video, I pull out the rest of what's in the box.

It's dozens of footballs, jerseys, pads, shoes, all autographed by the entire Philadelphia Eagles team. It's everything you could ever want to play a football game, a real one, not just a pickup game in the dirt. The guys start putting everything on like it's dress up hour. There's enough for everyone. They sit around laughing, watching the rest of the DVDs. Each one has a NFL game recorded on it in HD. Nicole sent every game, from preseason 'til now, that has happened this season.

"Geez, Corporal Conlon," Chris says, yanking on an autographed jersey, "my girl only sends me cookies." I leave them to it, beating back to the tent to read my letter.

_Dear Tommy,_

_ It took me forever to find a box that big. I contemplated sending myself in it, but I fought temptation. That would be an uncomfortable plane ride. _

_ I realize it might be overkill, but when you mentioned the Eagles, I went a little overboard. If I could have put the team in a box and mailed it to you, I would have. Unfortunately, they were not big fans of that plan. But they did agree to do a video for you. Gavin helped me burn all of the DVDs. I hope you all like them. It has been an exciting season so far. I thought you might want to watch it._

_ Also, I would not worry if I were you. There is no danger of me dating a football player. That would be a grievous conflict of interest. I don't sleep with people I work with. Except you. And it was just that once. Though, after receiving your picture in the mail, I am hoping it happens again, and soon._

_I would like to point out though, that you do not have a six pack. _

_I counted 8 abs, Conlon. I didn't even know you could have that much muscle. Not that I am complaining. If I made that picture into a wall-sized poster, would you be freaked out? As for your dream, I wish it was that easy. Your bunkmates wouldn't mind if I spent the night, would they? We could get them some earplugs. _

_ There was a lot of coverage over here of 9-11. It seems impossible that it has been ten years. Did you go into the service right after it happened? How old were you? We were just kids then and now we are grown and there is still no end in sight. I don't blame you for being depressed. It depresses me too. _

_ It is cold here now, especially at night. I wish you were here keeping me warm. But, I looked at the calendar the other day, and I realized, by Halloween, you will be halfway done. That is something to look forward to. _

_ Could you do me a favor? I need help picking out a costume. I sent you some options. Let me know which one you like best._

_ I hope you and your boys like my gift. Write me soon._

_ Nicole_

There is a stack of pictures that fall out of the back of the envelope. In each one, she's posing in a different outfit. She's dressed like Batgirl in one of them, a referee in the next, and a football player in another. My favorite is one of her dressed up like a boxer, gloves and all. She's a lot more covered than some of the Halloween costumes I've seen, but even then, she's got me feeling hotter than any girl in a skimpy outfit has. Maybe I should be worried about it, but I don't even care that she's got me feeling like I have a schoolboy crush. If a hot woman wants to send me pictures of herself and stroke my ego, I ain't going to say no. Especially if it's Nicole.

_Nicole,_

_ Are you trying to kill me with those pictures? That was better than that whole box of goodies. The guys are running around like idiots, play pretending they're in the NFL. You made a whole lot of men happy out here, especially me. They wrote you a thank you note. I'm putting it in with my letter._

_ Halloween seems a long way off, and I don't even wanna think about how long it's gonna take to get to February. I'll be back right after Valentine's Day. I figured if you don't mind waiting, we could have our second date then. I liked the way our first one went, but I think we can do better. I want to wine and dine your socks off. And maybe after, some other stuff can come off too._

_ I was 18 when I went in. Ma had just died and I didn't want to go home, I had no high school degree and I didn't know what to do. So I became a Marine, just like Pop. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Serving my country was a better alternative to being a bum. _

_ We're supposed to be getting orders here in the next couple of days. I don't know what's going to happen, but if I don't write for a while, it's not 'cause I don't want to. I'll probably be sweating my ass off somewhere, yelling at guys with thick accents who don't understand one damn word I'm saying. It always makes me feel like shit, being around the people out here. Some of them are living so bad, it makes my life look cushy. I don't think people back in the States really understand that. I ain't trying to complain, but we've got it good in America. People over here are living in hell._

_ The guys are getting antsy. The waiting is the worst part. Better to know where you're going than sitting around thinking about it. It's like being on pins and needles. Your box couldn't have come at a better time. At least we've got football to keep us busy._

_ I would write more, but I've got meetings today and orders to follow. So for now, this is goodbye. Take care,_

_ Tommy_

I barely have a minute to send my letter off when our orders come in. We're going to be backing up another troop almost 50 miles away. It'll be in the heart of the city. That's where all the shit happens. It's better to be bored in the desert than trapped in a place where anyone could have a bomb strapped to them. I ain't looking forward to it at all. I pack my stuff, just the things we need, nothing personal. But I sneak in a picture of Nicole and my book. Takes me a while to pick one out. I don't want to bring my favorite, in case something happens to it. It's safer in my foot locker. So I settle on the one of her sitting in the leaves, looking pretty with all the fall colors and her hair all wild. She always wears it straight, but I like it better curly. Reminds me of our first time, the way her hair would tickle me all over when I kissed her. It's the perfect hair to run your hands through and to tug on. Makes me feel special that she only wears it that way with me. She says she loves my hair, likes running her hands through it, but I don't think she would feel that way if she knew what she had on top of her own head.

I think about her on the way out. We're all bouncing around in the truck, quiet like we're at a funeral. Everyone's pretending to be asleep. I don't know what's going through their minds right now, but all I'm thinking about is her. She's the easiest thing to think about, the only thing in my life that doesn't come with a ton of baggage. So I pretend she's sitting next to me and that we're driving to the beach or a restaurant. For a while, I almost forget where I'm actually going.

But once we get there, it's impossible to forget. And it's hard to think about anything that ain't just surviving.

* * *

**Thank you all, as always, for your kind words and enthusiasm. I hope you are all enjoying the story. Review please!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

October 12th

_Nicole,_

_ A lot of people don't know, but the desert is hellishly hot in the day and cold as a witches' tit at night. It makes for a lot of miserable folks out here. You walk around all day in your heavy gear, and just when it's time to take it off and lay down, the only thing you want is a heavy jacket._

_ I wish I could tell you what's been going on out here. I wish there was even a way you'd get this letter. But unless someday you read my book (and that ain't going to happen if I get blown to hell) you are never going to see this._

October 15th

_Nicole,_

_ There were shots fired again today. No one was hit but everyone's rattled. Nobody knows where they came from. Could be anywhere, anyone, anytime. We can't bust down every door looking and half the people out here are families that are as scared as we are. Guys are barely sleeping, jumping at every loud noise._

_ Something bad's about to happen. I know it. I got that gut feeling. My gut's real used to putting up with shit, so I gotta trust it at this point. There's no use worrying about it. It's gonna happen when it happens. I'm just trying to keep the boys calm and focused. That's when life fucks you over, the minute you let your guard down. _

_I've been telling the boys stories. They like hearing about my fights. It ain't like I paint that pretty of a picture, but they lick up the details no matter what. So I start at the beginning, go through high school. I tell them about my chart, trying to beat an old Greek wrestling record. I could've got there, but you know what happened. Anyway, I'm saving Sparta for when we get back to base. _

October 17th

_Nicole,_

_ In the middle of me telling a story, Drew asked about you. Seems like all of them want to hear about this girl of mine who sends the best gifts. I don't know what I should tell him. I've got the details of the times we've been together locked in my mind, but that don't mean I wanna share them. They want to know when we met, when we hooked up. I ain't going to tell them all of that, but I was thinking about it the other day. _

_I remember when you walked into that hotel that day. I was feeling like shit. I felt kinda bad about what I said to Pop, but I was angry. I was slamming coins into that machine like they'd done something wrong to me and then you walked by and sat down. And goddamn Nicole, even when I was all pissed off like that, you caught my eye._

_ And then you kept following me around, poking in business that didn't have shit to do with you. I coulda cussed you out, scared you off, but you weren't backing down. And you got me to talk to you a little. And that should've been the end of it. But you hung around in those tight little skirts, trying to get me to play the media game. By the time I kissed you, I wanted you bad. Woulda had you right there after the interview if there weren't people everywhere. _

_ I had a lot of thoughts about how sleeping with you would go. I wondered what kinda girl you were, if you were experienced or innocent. I thought about it a lot. Dreamed about it sometimes. Some people say that real life can be better than a dream, but I never agreed with that until that night in the hotel room. I've been with a lotta women, in a lotta different places. But you're the only one I ever thought about after I rolled outta bed._

_ If I ever get back, I'll have to tell you that. If I don't, well I hope someone finds this book and gets it to you. _

_Tommy_

"You ever think about dying?" Drew asks me one evening. We're sitting around with our backs to a brick wall, waiting. The sun is just about to go down, which means we're about to throw in the towel for the day. I'm glad we didn't get the night shift. There ain't nothing like nighttime in a war zone to make you afraid of the dark.

"Why you thinking 'bout that kid?" This ain't a conversation I wanna have.

Drew shrugs. "It's kind of hard not to, sitting out here. I keep thinking about stuff I want to do."

"Like what?" If it helps him to talk, then I'll listen.

"I was going to go to college. Make something of myself. I figured this would be a good way to pay for it. They don't tell you though, when you sign up. They don't tell you what being out here really costs you."

It's one of those things he says every once in a while that makes him seem a lot damn older than a teenager. I can't think of nothing to say back to him that ain't gonna depress him more. He keeps talking though. "What's it like, going back home?"

"Depends on what you're going back to." It's as honest as I can be.

"What are you going home to, Corporal Conlon?"

"Wish I knew, kid. You?"

"My family's there. It'd be nice to see them again. My sister got married. They sent the pictures over." He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a crinkled up piece of paper. I look at it. His sister's pretty hot, but she looks like him with her dark brown hair and doe eyes. I tell him so. He looks pleased.

"I've got another sister. I could set you up with her, if you want," his offer makes me laugh.

"No thanks. No offense." I hand him his picture back.

"Right," Drew tucks the picture away. "I forgot you have a girl."

I don't argue with him. Nicole and I haven't talked about that. Ain't no point while I'm over here. But if I stop and think, I wouldn't mind her being my girl. Most of the time, I hear men complaining about their women. They say shit that makes me happy I'm single. I don't put up with jealous bullshit, or insecurities, or neediness. But it's been months, and I haven't seen Nicole be any of that. And sure, we ain't together, or even in the same place, but I bet she'd be a good girlfriend.

If she's giving me this much attention from a distance, it's gotta be better in real life.

"You miss her?" Drew is full of questions today. I shoot him a glare. Drew just starts laughing. "Corporal Conlon, I'm pretty sure those looks you give could scare Freddy Krueger."

"Conlon," the Master Sergeant comes through over my radio. "One more thing, and you and your boys are done for the night."

"Go ahead Sergeant," I talk into my mouth piece.

"We have a lead on the insurgents from the other night. Clear a path south so we can move in."

I give the affirmative. The orders are simple enough. "C'mon boys," I get the troops on their feet, "let's go to work."

The setting sun is throwing shadows down the narrow streets. We're being as quiet as we can be in combat boots, winding through the little neighborhood and telling families to go inside. Most of them listen without making a big stink about it. An older man though raises hell. He's yelling at the boys, gesturing and getting defensive. I wave the boys ahead, putting Drew in charge of making sure everyone's off the street.

The man starts yelling at me in Dari. I don't know too much of the language, but I know enough to tell him to shut up and listen. I pretty much have to shove him inside his house. Makes me feel like an asshole, but I got a job to do. And I ain't about to let him get shot because he doesn't want to go home yet.

"All clear down here, Corporal Conlon!" Drew shouts at me. It's a rookie mistake, but a harmless one. I grab my radio.

"Private, why are you yelling?" I say into my mouthpiece.

"Shit, I mean…sorry sir," I can hear the laugh in his voice.

His laugh is interrupted by the sound of gun fire. It mows through my boys, sending them scattering to the ground. I'm running, pounding the dirt, rifle cocked and ready. I can't see where it's coming from and I ain't about to start shooting in a neighborhood full of families. I get to my guys in record time.

"We're ok, Corporal Conlon," Drew groans up at me from the settling dirt. The shooting has stopped, but we ain't outta the woods yet.

"Get up," I sound angrier than I mean to. The boys jump to attention. "Be sharp," I tell them. I reach for my radio, ready to call for backup. We creep up the streets, slowly.

"Corporal," the grainy voice of the Sergeant comes through, "Are you ok?"

"We're fine, sir. We just—"

The world explodes in heat and flames. I'm thrown sideways, hard. I hit the dirt headfirst. All I can taste is blood, all I can hear is ringing. I open my mouth to scream, but it's like breathing fire. I'm choking, confused, trying to get up. I smell blood, metal, that hot scent of smoke. I manage to yank my helmet off, start crawling away. I get far enough away that I can see what happened.

Goddamn car bomb took out half the street. Two or three houses at the end of the road are going up in flames. I can't see my guys, just a bunch of shadows peeking through the smoke. Everything hurts. I got blood drenching me and I don't know who it's from. I open my mouth to start yelling again and this time it works. I follow the screaming and moaning voices, dragging men through the dirt to safety. I find 7 of them. There were 12 of us, including me. I don't have time to wonder where the other four are. I've got a pretty good idea anyway.

"Private," I shake Drew. His face is all streaked black and half his hair is gone, but he's the only one capable of listening right now. "Drew!" I get right in his face and yell.

"Corporal," he mumbles back.

I shove what's left of my radio into his hands, "Call for help."

I don't wait for him to say anything back. I run off dizzily, stumbling towards the houses. The first one is a lost cause. The roof's caved in and the whole thing is in flames. But in the second house I find a couple of kids huddled up in the corner. I have to fight with them to get them out. I think I got bitten. But I run them far enough away from the fire and drop them down. Then I run back. A couple of guys come outta nowhere and help me. In and out of the houses we go, grabbing anything, bodies or live people, and pulling 'em out. Feels like it takes forever.

A couple folks later and I can barely stand up. I drag myself and some teenager out with me. He's practically carrying me now. I can hear him shouting at me. I pick out one word: blood.

I look down at my uniform. It's soaked scarlet, redder than the roses you give on Valentine's Day. The pain comes through all at once, and it knocks me on my ass. I go down, face first, passing out headlong in the hot, grainy sand.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the support, especially to those of you who review and my beta, Tallulah. Review please!  
**


	6. Chapter 6

"Corporal," the voice is insistent, digging into my head like a power drill, "Corporal Conlon," it repeats.

I drag my eyelids open. It takes so much effort that I start to feel myself slip back under. I fight it, push that familiar, drug-induced fog away. I gotta find out where I am. I know I ain't dead, unless this is hell. There's way too much pain, the lights are too bright, it smells too sterile.

"Corporal Conlon," the damn voice ain't letting up. I try to say something back, but there's some kind of tube down my throat. For a second I panic and my whole throat tightens around it. It burns like hell. I force myself to relax and pull it out. The minute it pops out of my mouth, my whole chest starts to compress, like it's still on fire. I swallow, coating my dry throat.

"Yeah?" My voice sounds like I've been gargling with sandpaper.

"He's awake," the voice announces.

"Oh thank God," another voice, a deeper one, speaks, "it's been what—three days?"

"Does anyone know?" the first voice asks.

"No. We would have heard by now." I decide I don't like the sound of the second voice at all.

"Is he going to make it?"

"Corporal Conlon, are you aware of where you are?" the voice I'm really starting to hate asks me. I blink and things start coming into focus, like when I used to turn the knobs on the old TV when I was a kid.

"The hospital," I grind out. It's an obvious guess, but voice number two looks pleased. He's a big son of a bitch with short graying hair. Looks like someone high up, maybe a Sergeant Major. One look at the insignia on his arm confirms it. The high ups never make trips down here unless something bad or big happens. I'm guessing I fall into both of those categories.

"You've been out a long time, Corporal. We were getting worried," he tells me.

"What happened to my boys?" I don't give a shit about what they're doing here.

"They're back at base, being taken care of." The first voice belongs to a woman. I have to double take to make sure. Her hair is pulled so hard back that she could pass for a man. There ain't too much feminine 'bout her, but those lumps in the front of her uniform could be tits, I guess.

"Why ain't I with them?" It's hard to be polite when I feel like there's a knife stuck somewhere up under my armpit.

"You rank higher, Corporal. You'll be receiving better care," the woman says.

I know what this is all about. They don't want me dying. If half of what Nicole says is true, if I kick the bucket out here, it's gonna get back to the US quick. And I'm bettin' they don't want that to happen. That won't look good for the Corps at all.

"We need to debrief you," the man tells me. I don't answer but he keeps right on talking. He tells me about the car bomb, about the 12 people who died. Only 4 of them were ours. He seems real pleased about it. But I know them other 8 were in those houses, women, elderly, maybe even kids. The thought makes me sick.

"A large number of civilians reported that a Marine pulled them out of their houses after the bomb went off," both the man and woman give me a long look. "Would you know anything about that, Corporal?"

They're gonna want to pin a medal on me, make it into a media circus. I ain't never wanted a medal for doin' what's right. I damn sure don't want one now.

"No sir, I don't remember anything about the explosion."

They continue staring at me, bothering me, trying to bully me into details. But I ain't talking about it. I want to know what happened to Drew, to the boys I was in charge of.

"The private, Andrew Edgar?" the woman asks. She checks some huge folder she brought with her. "He has some facial scarring. Might lose some of the dexterity in his right arm. But he'll live." She says it all proper like that, like she's reading sports scores. I feel my temper start to flare up. I gotta keep it together.

"I'd like to talk to them, if that's all right," I tell her.

"We can't let you, Corporal. You are under strict orders. But we can take a message," the man says. They smile at me, like they're doing me a favor. I swallow my rude comment.

"Tell 'em to keep their heads up. Tell 'em I asked about 'em," I ain't going to tell these two anything sensitive. But I want the boys to know I ain't leaving them on my own.

"I'll be sure to pass the message along." The man pats my leg. I want to grab his arm and toss it back at him. But I sit still.

"Get better, Corporal. That is what you have to focus on now. Don't worry about letters. Inform your family that you are doing well."

"I want to talk to my Pop," it ain't a request. I must look as pissed as I feel 'cause them two take a real hard look at each other.

"We can allow that," the man says.

A couple minutes later and they've dragged a phone over to my bed. I can't even lift it with my right hand. I balance it on my left shoulder. Even moving to tilt my head hurts like hell. But I gotta make this call myself.

"Hello?" I would know Pop's voice anywhere.

"'Hey Pop. It's me."

"Tommy!" Pop sounds happier to hear from me than I thought he would. I feel a little bad. I shoulda called him more. "How are you son? Staying safe?"

"Actually Pop," I clear my throat. I'm nervous that these guys are watchin' me. "I got in a little trouble."

"Like last time?" Pop sounds worried.

"Nah," I know this conversation is being recorded. I keep it vague. "Got a little scratched up. I can't tell ya too much, but I'm all right."

"Scratched up? Tommy, are ya—"

"I swear I'm fine, Pop. Tell Brendan, ok? You guys won't be hearing from me for a while. But I'm ok. I'll write you when I can."

Pop mumbles something that sounds a lot like "I love you." I feel my throat get real tight.

"Take care, Pop. Tell Brendan…" I have to force the words out, "tell him I love him. And you too, all right?"

Pop's voice gets real quiet. "Yeah, son. I'll do that."

I hang up before I can do something fruity like start crying. By the time the man and woman clear out of my room, the nurses come sweepin' in. They lift me up and poke and prod at me, mumbling shit to themselves that barely sounds like English.

"What happened to me?" I ask them.

Some giggly girl that barely looks like she finished high school looks at me like I'm a goddamn movie star. I don't have time for this shit. It must show on my face, 'cause she runs for whoever's in charge. The lady in charge comes in, clipboard in hand and lays it all down for me, no bullshit. I took a whole bunch of hot, twisted, filthy metal to the chest. Went into my neck and down my side and arm. I'm lucky it missed my heart. They've gotten all the debris out, but there are burns and there might be infection. I gotta lay real still until my body starts sewing itself back up.

"You're very lucky, Corporal Conlon," she tells me.

I don't say nothing. Anyone who thinks I'm lucky ain't never been in an explosion before.

My room is all cushy. I get good food, cable TV. I don't want none of it. I ask a nurse for my book. She looks confused, but then pulls out a bag with all my stuff in it. I go through it the best I can with my left hand till I find it. Nicole's picture is a little bent, but it's still ok. I'm pissed that I can't write though. I'm thinking about it when the nurse gives me a surprise.

"These are for you, sir," that little girly nurse is back with a stack of envelopes in her hand.

I recognize the swirly handwriting.

_Tommy,_

_ I know you probably will not get these until you get back from whatever important thing it is that you are doing, but I wanted to write anyway. _

_ Your Eagles are hitting a little bit of a rough patch, but I'm sure they will pick it back up. It is frigid over here. Standing on the field sometimes feels like hell. The sprinklers under the grass are filled with icy water. It makes the cold seep up through your shoes and into your legs. I'm glad I don't have to wear heels on the field. Sneakers are warmer and infinitely more comfortable._

_ I have started a countdown until you get back. 128 days. It seems a lot longer in number form. _

_ Miss you,__  
_

_ Nicole_

_Tommy,_

_ I tried to decorate my house for Halloween. My neighbors always go all out. They have a full-sized haunted house in their front yard. They turn it on at night; all I can hear when I am trying to sleep is spooky music and kids screaming. It is starting to take a toll. I had some sort of half-assed plan to keep up with them, but I think I might just install a flood light that points right at their yard. Do you think that's overkill?_

_ I went with the boxer costume, but I don't look nearly as good in it as you do. Maybe if I get some tattoos…What do you think? _

_ 119 days to go._

_ Nicole_

_Tommy, _

_ I think your dreams might be spreading. I had one about you. It felt so real. I was so angry when I woke up alone. Having you in real life is better than any dream, but for now, I'll take what I can get. It is a good thing I live alone. Roommates might start to wonder why I have started moaning in my sleep._

_ I hope you are ok, whatever you are doing. I know you told me not to worry, but you might as well tell a fish not to swim. You are never far from my thoughts and prayers. Stay safe, Tommy._

_ 108 days to go._

_ Nicole_

_Tommy,_

_ Did you know that they are going to turn the Sparta tournament into an annual thing? The purse is even bigger this year. They are saying somewhere around 7 million dollars. All people can talk about is whether you are going to fight in it or not. I bet the sponsors would pay you whatever you wanted. Not that I think you should sell out. I just thought you would want to know._

_ I watched some of your tapes from high school. You were good, even then. It is a blessing to have a natural talent like that. It's a shame you can't use it right now. How are the lessons with your boys going? Are they getting any better? I could send you some instructional tapes, if you would like. You might get a kick out of them at least. They were filmed sometime in the 70s. Everyone has a glorious porn-stache. What an ugly era. I doubt even you would look good with a handlebar pedo-stache._

_ I miss your letters. This is like torture. I do not mean to complain; after all, you are the one doing all of the hard work. I'm just reiterating how much I miss you. You know, in case you haven't picked up on it already. _

_ I have a kiss saved up for you. I can't wait to give it to you._

_ 100 days to go. You are almost there._

_ Nicole_

I look at the dates. They're all from before Halloween. None have come since. A week goes by, then two. No more letters show up. I can't write to her, can't call her, can't even tell Pop or Brendan to get a message to her. She probably thinks the worst. My last letter was the beginning of October and it's damn near the middle of November.

It's like being in prison. I eat when they bring food. The TV stays on all the time, but I don't watch it. I just stew in anger, pissed at the world. It helps dull the pain. I refuse the pills they keep trying to force down my throat. They make me foggy, stupid. I want to feel it, feel it all. If I focus on that then I don't have to think that there's a girl and a family across the pond worrying about me. I don't have to think that Nicole is probably mad at me, probably moving on with somebody else. Maybe that guy Gavin she wrote about. I don't want no one else touching her, don't want her kissing some other guy.

I wanna pound something, scream, cuss. But I sit quietly, waiting.

The smaller cuts close up, but the big ones are a problem. They keep ripping open, tearing right through the stitches. Hurts like hell. They've got me in therapy, moving so my arm doesn't get stiff. I start losing weight, slipping out of fighting shape. The other Sparta guys are workin' out right now, getting huge, going to sleep at night with some pretty young thing. It ain't fair.

I stay in my pity party so long that it starts to feel normal. When I finally am allowed to get up, I exercise the best I can. It makes me feel better, even if I can't do one pushup. The nurses watch me. They say they're monitoring. I don't call 'em on their lie. Any company is welcome now.

I'm doing wall sits in front of the tube when something catches my eye. The president is giving some speech. I stop what I'm doing to listen. He's telling the world that we're pulling out of Afghanistan, that he's bringing us home. He says it'll be before New Years.

That cuts 58 days out of the countdown. All I can think of is going home, seeing Pop, Brendan. Seeing Nicole. Maybe I can win her back.

I swallow the anger and start makin' plans. I ain't goin' into this blind.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the support and kind words and encouragement, especially to those of you who review and my beta, Tallulah. Review please!  
**


	7. Chapter 7

It's almost cold the morning we're all set to leave. The desert sand blows around, but it ain't carrying the heat it normally does. It's winter here, and even though there ain't going to be any snow, it's chilly. It's almost beautiful this early in the morning. The moon is still up, the sand is a reddish color and the sky is an inky blue. Seems out of place, finding anything pretty out here in this hell. But I guess, there's always something pretty, even in the worse places. Maybe it's just my mood. I'm finally going home. I walk out of the hospital, my bag over my good arm, and head to the truck that's taking me back to base. In less than a day, I'll be home. I ain't sure how to feel about it. I'm excited, sure, but I got a long road of healing in front of me.

Back on base, every thing's the way it was, 'cept for those four empty beds. No one talks about the explosion. It ain't all that uncommon, but it's not something anyone wants to think about. Better to lock the pain away until you get back. It ain't quiet, even this early in the morning. People are excited. They're screaming and laughing and joking, talking about partying and seeing their girls and plans for going back. They wave at me when I walk past, look happy to see me. I nod back, but I don't stop to talk. I gotta go look for my boys. I find 'em in our old spot. They're all packing up in the tent. Some of them look a little worse for the wear, but overall, not too bad. Chris is looking healthy, even smiling. He hugs me when I walk in. I let him. Then I see Drew. The top of his head is all bandaged up from the burns. He won't ever be able to grow hair there again. His young face, one that probably made girls trip over themselves, is melted in places. I can still see him under there, but it's like looking at him through hot wax.

"Corporal Conlon," he gives me a grin, but even that looks like it hurts him.

"Drew," we stare at each other for a long moment, trying to think of what to say. There's a lot I could tell him. I could say I'm sorry this shit happened to him, tell that he's gonna be all right. But I don't. Words don't mean a whole lot out here.

"Glad to be going back?" he asks me.

"Yeah, kid. You?"

"Oh yeah. I feel lucky you know? At least I get to go home," he smiles again and for a second, I see his old self under the scars and bandages. I smile back at him.

Something tells me that Drew will be ok.

I leave him to himself and go pick up my stuff. My footlocker is the same as how I left it, but there's an envelope on top. I tear into it, wondering when it came and what it says.

_Tommy,_

_I haven't heard from you in weeks now. I assume you know that you are coming home early. Your family is excited to see you.  
_

_I don't know what happened, why it has been so long without any word from you. If you do not want to talk anymore, that is your right. But please, just let me know if you are ok.  
_

_I hope you are fine. If you want to see me when you get back, you know where to find me._

_ Nicole_

It's like my nightmare come true. I know for sure she's pissed now. I start wondering why Brendan didn't tell her anything, but then again, it ain't like Brendan knows there's something between us. Playing all my cards that close to my chest has got me up shit's creek. Her letter is dated from a week ago. There's no time to write, and I can't call her until I land stateside.

I start thinking hard. I can't drive up to see her, not hurt like this. I don't wanna ask Brendan to drive me. I could fly, maybe and catch a cab to her place. It's probably the best plan I've got, but it'll have to wait. I gotta be with my family for a little while. I owe it to them.

I tuck her letter away, a little apart from the rest of them. I have a long flight ahead of me.

I'll figure something out then.

Drew and I sit next to each other on the plane. He's chatting, laughing like nothing happened. He's telling me about what he's gonna do when he lands. His family is all waiting for him. He'll go back to Texas, start taking classes. He doesn't mention his scars and I don't either. It's a nice distraction from having to think about the future. Drew has his ducks all in a row. Even all beat up like that, he might be better off than me.

I stare out of the window, watching sand turn to blue sky and clouds. I always like flying. It's like being in some kid's story, like you have super powers. The clouds are my favorite. I always wanted to reach out and touch one, sit on it, eat one maybe. It was sad as hell when I found out they were just water. There's something about being a kid that's real nice.

There ain't nothing like not knowing how the world works to make you happy.

We have a layover somewhere in Europe, but we ain't allowed out of the airport. I start thinking that maybe I'll have to come back and see all these places through the eyes of a civilian.

I'm wondering if Nicole has ever been out here. She might like Paris and Rome and all those romantic places you see in those chick flicks. I ain't much for sightseeing, but if she wanted to go, I'd take her. If I win Sparta, I'll have the money to do it. I could buy her what she wanted, take her out to fancy places. I wonder if she'd like that. She don't strike me as the high maintenance type, but who knows.

We land in the States early in the morning. I don't know what I was expecting, but the cameras in the airport catch me off guard. Most of the flashes are aiming at me. They're distracting, exploding in my face and pissing me off. I want to shove past them, but I take a second and scan the crowd of reporters for a familiar face. I don't have any luck. So I wave at them and hurry off through the gate, looking for Brendan.

He's standing with Pop and his wife and his girls, and they're all grinning. My nieces made me some sort of glittery welcome home sign. I smile at them, trying to be nice. They look at me like they're nervous. Tess shoves them forward and gives them a look that makes me know they talked about this on the way here. The little girls hug me around the legs. It's awkward. I don't even know these girls. But they run back to their mom and hide behind her.

"Tommy," Pop sounds the same as ever. He even looks the same, but maybe a little happier. He hugs me. I still ain't used to these open signs of affection from my dad. I used to run away if he made any sudden moves around me. It's a hard habit to unlearn.

"Hey Pop," I pat him on the back. "Brendan, Tess," they all hug me in turn. It's hard hugging Tess. I know it's stupid, but she's always gonna be the woman my big brother chose over me. She's all smiles though, rambling about a party she has planned. Brendan's looking hard at me, so I smile back. "Sounds good. It's nice to see you all." That's all I say.

Luckily, they don't push me for nothing else. They keep talking as we walk to the car.

As long as I keep listening, they're happy. They lead me out to this big SUV. It's a family car, the kind of thing most men hate driving. Still, it's pretty nice, as far as SUVs go. There's booster seats in the back. Tess starts loading the kids up while Brendan pulls me aside to load the luggage. "How badly are you hurt, Tommy?" His girls are all in the car with Pop.

I decide there ain't no point in lying to him.

"Pretty bad. Most of the right side of my body is all gashed up. I'll show you when we get back."

To his credit, Brendan just nods, but he looks worried. He should know that I can take a hit and keep rolling. It's a Conlon family trait. Still, it's kinda nice that he cares. Reminds me of when we were kids.

We listen to some kinda happy crap kid music on the way back. The girls sing real loud. They get Brendan to sing part of it with them. It's weird, seeing him as a dad. He's a lot better than our Pop was. I guess I figured he would be. He's supposed to be a damn good teacher. He's that kinda guy who ain't afraid of looking stupid. He never was. In high school he was real popular, got along with everyone. We used to run in the same circle, joke around a lot. I wonder if it's ever gonna be like that again.

Brendan's house is exactly the way I pictured it would be. He always wanted the perfect, picket-fence life and it looks like he's got it. Every lawn has some toy or another to make it clear that this is a family neighborhood. It don't look nothing like the house we grew up in. Pop's place is pretty much the same as it always was, 'cept he took down all the frilly things Ma used to like.

I meant to ask what happened to them, but I'm pretty sure I don't wanna know.

I don't know why I'm pissed off, but as Tess gives the grand tour, I feel myself heating up.

It's like a goddamn dollhouse in here. Every room is all decorated like a magazine, in those soft colors you see in department stores. Everything looks like a sitcom set, every room has a theme. It's been more than ten years since I even had a room to myself. I ain't never had my own place, no throw rugs and matching curtains, no china cups and throw pillows. That's a life for a different guy, a guy with roots.

I'm like a tumble weed, blowing around, getting more beat up as I roll.

"Do you like it?" Brendan asks me. I throw my bag down in the corner of his den. Only rich people have rooms just for entertainment shit that don't fit in the living room.

"It's nice," I say. And it is. I just don't like it.

Brendan looks happy, "You can stay, as long as you want."

I just nod. I don't wanna think about what comes next. I didn't have any plan for coming back. Never do. I have a bunch of shit I wanna do, like get back in shape, start fighting again, maybe get my own place. But I gotta heal first. And since I can't change my bandages by myself, I guess I better hang out with my brother.

"Tommy," Brendan gets all serious on me, "I'm really glad you're back."

I don't know what I'm supposed to say. Yeah, I'm glad to be back, but I've got a whole other war to fight over here. Now people wanna act like nothing was ever wrong, like we get along.

I ain't never been good at pretending. I'm good at being angry though. 'Cept, I ain't really angry at Brendan anymore. I don't know what I feel.

"It's good to see you too," I'm pissed my voice comes out all choked up. Sounds like I'm about to start crying like a little girl.

All of the sudden, Brendan and I can't look at each other. I start staring at pictures of my nieces on the wall and he's looking hard at the carpet.

"You know Nicole's coming?" Brendan breaks my pity party with his question.

"What?" This is a surprise.

"She didn't tell you?" Brendan looks as shocked as I feel. "She'll be here in an hour to interview you."

"Nah," I say. "She didn't tell me." And just like that, I'm right back in my pity party.

I don't know what I'm gonna say to her. I want to be smooth and seductive, but I'm not exactly at the top of my game now. I can barely lift my right arm above my head without wanting to black out. She's not gonna want some broken man. She's got the whole world in front of her.

I decide I'll play it cool. It's worked for me before. It'll get me through this. Still though, I jump in the shower and change my bandages before she gets here. And there ain't no harm in looking good, so I pick a shirt that has worked on women in the past. And then I wait.

It's almost torture, sitting in that den, trying to make small talk with Brendan and Pop. But at least none of them bring up Afghanistan. I ain't ready to talk about that.

The doorbell rings and it feels like my heart's about to fall out of my mouth. I don't ever remember being this damn nervous, not even before a fight. When I fight, I don't have to think.

I just beat people down. But Nicole is gonna wanna talk. I ain't no good at that. I focus on staying calm, on breathing. Brendan and Pop are talking about something—dinner plans or some shit. I wonder if Nicole would go to dinner with me.

There's a knock on the door. I can't even stand up. Lucky for me, Brendan jumps up and grabs it, swinging the door open like an over-excited little kid. I get a glance at a bunch of dark brown hair before Brendan practically puts her in a chokehold. She gasps a little bit and pats him on the back. Then Pop jumps up to say hello. I stand up, slowly, so the pain doesn't kill me.

"Hey Nicole," I'm happy that my voice came out the way it normally sounds.

I focus on breathing, looking normal. Her eyes land on mine. I feel like I'm gonna pass out.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the support and kind words and encouragement, especially to those of you who review and my beta, Tallulah. Review please!  
**


	8. Chapter 8

She's sittin' right in front of me with them gorgeous legs of hers crossed at the ankles. It's hard not to stare. She looks even better than I remember, better than those pictures she sent. Her dark hair is longer now, falling over her shoulder and down her back and curling in at the ends. She's all dressed up for work, still in a dress even though it's damn near freezing outside. She looks pretty in it. The dark blue color makes her skin look real good. I pull my eyes up to her face. She's staring right back at me.

I smile at her and those lips of hers quirk up.

Brendan's living room has got cameras and lights in every corner. I should be used to these interviews by now, but they still make me uncomfortable. Everyone's looking at me: the camera guy, Brendan and Tess and Emily and Rosie. But the only one whose eyes matter is Nicole.

I know I'm still on thin ice with her, but being hurt has won me some sympathy points.

I didn't know what to expect when I saw her first. She looked nervous, but hell, I was too. I was trying to think of something slick to say and then she just blurted out a question 'bout what happened to me. I was kinda relieved, it gave me something to say, gave her an excuse to touch me. She's got tiny hands, so small that I can cover it up with my own. But those little fingers of hers weren't playing around when she was trying to see what happened to me.

She looked so worried. I know I should've been sweeter, should've said something slick.

I kissed her instead. I was planning on going slow, kissing her all soft the way girls like. Except the second my lips touched hers, I couldn't help myself. She tasted like mint and chocolate. Don't know how she always manages to taste so sweet, but it's better than candy.

I wanted to hold her, push her against the wall, lock the damn door and show her just how much I missed her. But she stopped me. She says I gotta talk to her, tell her everything privately. I ain't one for conversation, but if that's the price of her forgiving me, I'm willing to pay it. But right now I have to not fuck up an interview.

The camera is fired up and ready to go. "So Tommy," Nicole is sitting up straight, talking to me in her reporter voice. It's different than her voice was a few minutes ago, when she sounded all panicked and worried. She made me show her my injury. She looked like she was gonna cry. Broke my heart, seeing her worried like that, but it was kinda nice. She still cares about me, enough to worry. And tonight, I'm gonna get her back.

"It is great to see you back," she tells me. It sounds real platonic now, but 15 minutes ago, she almost sobbed the words out.

"It's nice to be back," I'm getting sick of saying it, but it's true.

"The whole country wants to know, what is next for Tommy Conlon?" She tilts her head to the side and looks at me hard. I know she wants to know the answer too.

I buy some time by clearing my throat and stretching my legs out. "I'm gonna get in the gym, start training again to fight."

I see something spark in her eyes, like she wants to say something, but she swallows it.

"I think fans will be excited about that," she says.

I shrug my shoulders, "Maybe. Guess we'll have to see." I wanna ask her how she feels about it, but I'll do that later.

"What does it feel like, becoming an overnight celebrity?" she asks me.

"Don't feel too much different. I still do the same stuff I always was doing. People just pay attention to it now."

She smiles a little bit at this. "People certainly are paying attention. And I am sure they would join me in welcoming you back, thanking you and wishing you luck."

I nod at this. She keeps on talking, asking me questions about training. She wants to know if Pop is going to keep training me, if Brendan will train too. She asks if I'm going to find a sponsor, and what I think about the culture behind MMA, all the show boasting and trash talking. Her questions have got me thinking, trying to answer in smart ways. I tell her I've always trained with Pop, and that's how it's gonna be. I tell her I don't know if Brendan still wants to fight, but if he does, I'm always ready for him. And I say I ain't never had time for all that posturing and struttin' around, but I get why the other guys do it.

It's hard, knowing the right thing to say. It ain't like I'm stupid, but Nicole is that kinda girl who's real educated, a college girl, a working girl. I ain't used to keeping up with women like her. The women I used to run with didn't challenge me at all. Seems like that's all Nicole does.

A half hour later and we're done. They pack it up, and Nicole makes some excuse to stay.

Her cameraman don't look like he gives two shits what she does. I wonder if this is the guy Gavin that she was talking about, but it doesn't seem like they're friends. This guy is graying and a little rough around the edges; I always got the feeling that Gavin was a young guy. Whoever this is, the cameraman ain't a threat to me. He's out the door quickly, leaving me alone with her.

I'm dying to get out of here, to go somewhere where I get Nicole all to myself. But Tess swoops in, talking to her like they're old pals.

I sit on the couch with my brother and watch them gab. My patience is starting to wear thin.

Brendan stands up off the couch, "let's go to bed, huh?" He takes his wife by the arm.

She looks like she ain't ready to stop talking, but looks over at me. I stare at her, trying to tell her without words to get out. She finally seems to get it.

"Good night you two," she waves at the both of us, "be good."

She starts giggling as she walks up the stairs. Her last little comment embarrasses me. But I don't have any plans on being good tonight.

"Wanna go for a walk?" I ask Nicole. "Sure," she smiles.

Ten minutes later, she's bundled up in a pair of my old sweatpants and a hoodie. It ain't the most attractive ensemble, but she still manages to look adorable. I tell her so. She seems surprised.

"Thank you," she says. She stares up at my face for a second before she slips her hand into mine, slowly, like she ain't sure it's ok. I pull her under my good arm cozily and steer her through the streets. She starts talking, telling me about work and football, filling the silence. I listen.

It's real good to hear her voice.

"Where do you wanna go?" I ask her. "This is your town," she smiles, "you pick."

I still want to take her out somewhere fancy, but now ain't the time. So I walk us into the first little restaurant I see. It's the middle of the week, so the place is pretty empty. We pick a table in the back. I wish it was a booth so I could slide in right next to her, but I pull her chair out with a wink and we sit down. We get back into our easy raillery until after the food arrives, when Nicole gets that serious look on her gorgeous face.

"So why didn't you write?" She looks me in the eyes. She hasn't touched her food.

"I couldn't. I was under orders."

"Is that normal, to get orders like that?" I'm starting to think that answering a lot of questions might be the downside to dating a journalist.

I shrug. "Depends."

"On what?"

"On if they want the folks back home to know what happened. Most of the time they don't."

She doesn't look surprised by this, but she's quiet for a long time. She picks at her food and keeps looking around, like she's nervous. I wish I knew what she was thinking.

"Want to get out of here?" she asks suddenly. "I just really want it to be just the two of us."

It's like she's reading my mind. We get our food all packed up in boxes and head out again. She hails a cab, gives an address. I don't ask where we're going, just reach for her hand. She leads me outta the car a few minutes later and into a hotel. I follow her up the stairs and into a room.

I'm glad to see her camera guy didn't sleep with her. She walks around the room for a little bit, pulling off layers and turning on lights. She grabs a lamp and brings it over to me.

"All right, Tommy. Let me see."

There ain't no point in arguing. I lift my shirt off again and start rolling the bandage down. She's starting to look green around the gills but she doesn't flinch or look away. She stares at it, every bloody, bruised inch. I tell her what happened, skirting around the grosser details. She just nods and stares at me, like she's trying to take it all in. "What are you going to do now?" she asks.

"Get back in shape." I thought we already covered that, but she looks like it's bothering her.

It ain't a minute later when she asks me if I think it's a good idea.

She thinks I should go to a shrink, put fighting on hold. It gets me fired up.

She don't get it, what fighting means to me.

It's what I've been doing my whole damn life, the one thing I'm good at. I was gonna go to the Olympics, but life got in the way. And I'll be damned if I'm gonna let it get in the way again.

She must see the rage in my eyes, 'cause she jumps back like I hit her. The fight slips out of me in a second. I hate that look on her face, that fear. I don't want a woman to look at me that way, especially not Nicole. Makes me feel like shit, like I'm turning into the worst parts of Pop.

I try to say I'm sorry, but she runs off to the bathroom. I know she's crying in there.

I go in after her, try to talk her down. Maybe it's that heartbroken look on her face, the tears or the fact that deep down I know she's right, but she's got me agreeing to go see a therapist.

It means a lot to her; the look on her face when I say I'll go is like the sun suddenly came out.

She's got me agreeing to a lot tonight, including being her boyfriend.

It ain't like it was a hard choice to make. It's what I've wanted all along.

But still, it's a big moment for me. I ain't never been nobody's boyfriend before. There was never anyone who mattered enough and there wasn't space for a woman in my life. Until now.

I think I should've been the one to ask her. It's how I was raised, that the man takes the lead.

But maybe that's not how we work. She's always been the initiator, ever since Sparta last year.

I gotta think of something nice to do for her, something special. But right now it's hard to think about anything except the way she feels in my arms.

Nicole's sitting in my lap, tracing the tattoos on my chest. My skin tingles when she touches me.

It makes me warm all over. It's taking a lot of self-control not to just roll her over, but I let her set the pace. "When did you get your tattoos?" She traces the two masks on my right pec.

"Different times," I tell her. She looks up at me, silently begging me to explain.

"I got the masks with Manny. 'Smile now, cry later' was what he used to say when shit got bad."

Just thinking about Manny makes me want to smile and cry at the same time. I push him to the back of my mind. "I added Manny's Marine Corps ID number above it when he died."

She nods, then drops a soft kiss over them. I resist the urge to kiss her back.

"The one of the woman on my left shoulder is my Ma." I point to it. "Got it right when she started getting sick. She didn't like it. Hated my tattoos." I run my hand through my buzz cut.

Nicole silently nods for me to continue, running a finger over my Fighting Irish tattoo on my right arm. "That was my first one. Got it when I was 16. When I showed it to Ma, she cried. That one was probably a mistake. I tried to cover it up with the tribal one after I got in the Corps. Reminded me too much of home."

She kisses each tattoo as I tell her about it, silently listening while I talk. Each spot of ink means something to me. It's a story, written all over me. No one has ever asked what they meant before and I'm happy to tell Nicole.

"Do you have any tattoos?" I ask her.

"_No_," she tells me, her face splitting into a devilish grin, "you would have seen them already."

"Yeah?" I ask. "I think I better check again. Just in case."

She sighs dramatically, "If you must. Where do you want to check first?"

"Where do you want me to check?" I cock an eyebrow at her.

She licks her lips and starts pulling her dress down. I think I stop breathing. She's got on this see-through black lace bra. That ain't the sort of thing a woman just wears to work. It means she was expecting something, or maybe just hoping for it. Either way, it makes me damn happy.

"See anything?" Her voice is real soft and flirty. I ain't ever seen this side of her.

"Maybe," I tell her. "I need a closer look though." I lean forward and pull the straps down, kissing down her smooth shoulders and across her collarbone.

She sighs a little and leans into me. "How about now?" she asks. She starts pulling that little scrap of lace down so slow that it's gonna kill me. I let her take her time and just enjoy the show.

"You gotta show me the rest, sweetheart," it feels nice to call her that.

She leans in really close to my ear and whispers, "You are going to have to find it yourself, Tommy." The way she says my name, all husky, is the last straw.

I flip us over and press her into the mattress. Her hands start fumbling with my belt.

I would help her, but I'm too busy working her blue dress over her hips. Her panties match her bra, but it looks better off. In half a minute, our clothes end up in a pile somewhere.

I wanna go slow and make this last, but I need her. Besides, we've got all night.

She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me down on her. I kiss her hard, tasting her and ignoring the burning in my chest. The pain ain't nothing compared to how she's making me feel.

"Please Tommy," she's panting now. "I need you."

That's all she had to say. I roll us both over again until we're sitting and pull her into my lap.

I slide into her with no problem, like my body remembers exactly where it's supposed to go.

She fits over me like a glove, wrapping her legs around my waist and squeezing. I grab her hips, holding her still on top of me. I need a moment to pull myself together.

Nothing feels as fantastic as being inside of Nicole. It's like I was made to fit her.

I start moving against her. She arches her back and leans into me. Her hair is falling all over the place. I grab a handful of it. She reaches for me, latching herself around my neck.

She's making some serious noise, but I gotta feeling I am too.

Every time I hit a good spot she gasps my name. Doesn't take me too long before I am thrusting full force and she's practically screaming. I love her like this. She's too buttoned up at work, too professional. There ain't nothing professional about how she's acting now.

I know that the neighbors have got to hear us, but I don't give a flying fuck. I waited months for this.

"Tommmmy!" She yells my name a second before she leans forward and kisses me. I bring my hand up to the back of her neck and hold her against her mouth. Her whole body tightens up, forcing us both over the edge.

It's over way too damn soon for me, but she looks worn out.

I feel better than I have in a long time. I lay us both down and she snuggles right up into my good side. If anyone ever asks, I'll never admit it, but I like the way she cuddles up to me in her sleep. It's like she trusts me.

"I just need a second," she pants, her eyes closed. Her hair is damp and slicked to her head.

It's starting to curl up the way I like it. I run my fingers through it and drop kisses on her temple. She sighs but then purrs, "If you want, we can go for round two..."

I think that as far as girlfriends go, I hit the damn jackpot. I whisper this in her ear.

It ain't I love you, but her eyes pop back open and she smiles real slow.

"You keep talking like that, Tommy Conlon, and I am never going to get any sleep."

"Guess you're gonna be tired tomorrow, sweetheart," I roll back on top of her.

It doesn't seem like she's complaining.

I sure ain't.

* * *

**So I'm going to go a little bit further with this story than I originally anticipated. Thank you all for your reviews and support. Please continue to let me know what you think!  
**


	9. Chapter 9

I don't know where I got the idea, but I woke up this morning and instead of doing what I usually do, I decided to go visit Brendan at work. Maybe it's because I still ain't used to seeing him grown, or maybe 'cause I'm wondering what would make a man with millions of dollars keep his day job, but I wanna see him at work.

Brendan wakes up every day, gets his daughters breakfast, eats with them and his wife, helps Tess get the girls dressed, puts on his suit and heads out. He looks ridiculously happy when he does it. He's still hauling around, working his 9 to 5, and he ain't complaining. Makes me wonder what about it has him smiling. I gotta admit, it's nice sitting at the table with people around who ask how you slept and what you're gonna do today. Emily and Rosie are growing on me too. Emily's excited as hell every day to go to school in her dad's car. Rosie hangs around with me and Tess all day. Tess let me babysit her the other week. I was scared as hell, but it didn't take much. I found some paper and some crayons and had a damn good time scribbling pictures with a 3 year old.

There's something about this family thing that's nice. It makes me like being at Brendan's house better than Pop's. I try to see 'em both equally. Pop's always real happy when I'm over. We're even startin' to talk a little more. He tells me his war stories. I ain't ready to tell him mine, but maybe someday.

Brendan and I talk a lot. It was weird at first, trying to play 14 years of catch up. We were kids when we split and now he's got kids. But Brendan's always been real patient. He invites me to do shit and I try to go along with it. We go to the movies with his kids, run at the park, regular everyday crap. I'm starting to like the routine, like how normal it is. I like that Rosie ain't afraid to climb in my lap and that Emily likes to gab to me about how things in first grade are going. I even kinda like the way that Tess is constantly teasing me, like I'm her little brother too.

I'm trying to stop being so closed off. Trying to open up. So that's why around 11 on a Wednesday morning I put my jacket on, tie on my shoes and jog down to Brendan's high school.

I ain't been to school in a long time. I didn't even finish when I was a kid. But ain't nothing much changed. The lights are still way too bright, the tile is still ugly and kids are still struttin' around like their shit don't stink. Some kid points me to the office, telling me all matter-of-factly that I have to sign in first. I nod at him and he skirts off to class. They make me wear a sticker with my name on it and sign a little clipboard. When the secretary, an older woman with hair so gray it almost looks light purple in the fluorescent light, sees my name on the paper she gasps.

"Are you Brendan's brother?" she asks, mouth hanging open like she's trying to catch flies.

"Yes ma'am." I smile at her. Next thing I know, a bunch of people are swarming toward me. I must meet half a dozen people whose names I don't even catch. I don't know why they're all riled up. Most of them don't look like the MMA crowd.

"Brendan talks about you all of the time," the secretary tells me. I wonder what he says. He couldn't have told 'em about me before this summer. I didn't tell anyone I had a brother. It was too hard to explain. And the amount of people in Brendan's neighborhood who look surprised as hell when I get introduced to them makes me sure Brendan never mentioned it either.

An older balding guy pushes his way to the front. He's kinda chubby and he looks like he's in charge. People scatter like roaches when the light flicks on when he comes out of his office.

He keeps his voice calm when he talks to me.

"Nice to meet you, Tommy. I'm Principal Zito. I'll take you to Brendan's classroom."

I shake his hand and follow him down the halls. He's pointing out different classes I don't give a damn about as we walk. Brendan has mentioned this guy at home, but I never cared to ask about him. Maybe I should start taking some interest in my brother's life.

"You've known Brendan a while?" I ask him.

"Yeah. Your brother's a good guy," he turns around to look at me. "Surprised the hell out of me when he told me he fights."

I smirk a little at that. "He's fought his whole life."

The principal nods. "You gave him a run for his money though."

Most people don't seem to realize how bad of a place we were in during Sparta. I ain't eager to fill them in. "Couldn't let him win too easy," I say. Zito laughs.

"No, I guess not," he continues chuckling to himself. "Are you here to see him teach?" he asks.

"Yeah, maybe take him to lunch." I don't know why I'm talking to this guy, but there's something real likeable about him.

"That's nice. He'll like that," Zito gives me one long look. "Well, here he is." He points to a plain wooden door. I thank him and then step inside.

Brendan's up at the whiteboard, scribbling words a mile a minute. All the kids are crushed in at those shiny black counters that science rooms have. They're actually payin' attention to what Brendan is saying. Or at least they were, until I walk in. Thirty pairs of eyes zip to me. Some of the guys look real excited and even a few of the girls look like they know me. They start chatting at once. Brendan turns around, looking irritated. Then he sees me.

"Tommy," he sounds surprised.

"Came to watch you work," I tell him. He smiles at me. "Pull up a chair then."

I squeeze onto one of those uncomfortable stools. Don't see how kids fit on these damn things. I try to pay attention to Brendan. He's talking about physics. I remember a little bit of this, enough at least to follow some of what he's saying. He's got a creative way of teaching. The kids don't sit down for too long before he's got them up doing experiments. They're all running around, happily shoving balls around the table, trying to understand Newton's laws. It's right after Christmas break. These kids should be antsy, but they're all happy participants. It ain't easy to get kids to pay attention, let alone like something as difficult as physics. I feel a little spark of pride for my big brother. This is clearly his element, even more than the ring. I'm glad he found his happiness.

The bell rings and instead of running off to lunch, half the kids run up to me and try to get me to sign notebooks and binders. I scratch my name out in Sharpie marker, trying to be nice. One girl whips out her phone for a picture with me and Brendan. It's weird hearing her call him "Mr. Conlon." No one even calls Pop that.

"This is a surprise," Brendan tells me when the squirts are gone. He looks right at home leaning on the whiteboard.

"Thought I'd buy you lunch," I tell him, picking up my jacket.

"Can't say no to that." He reaches for his own jacket. We stroll out of the school together, heading for a deli that Brendan says is good. It feels nice to be walking around with my big brother. He's talking about his students.

"You're a good teacher. You would have made me like physics," I tell him as we walk.

He looks real happy at that. "I love those damn kids," he admits, "even when they're tough to deal with."

I shrug. "We were tough to deal with. Maybe you're just used to it." I hold the door open for him.

"Maybe," he agrees.

I think Brendan introduces me to everyone in the whole damn deli. He's a big star here, and no one even mentions Sparta. Brendan's just a likeable guy, that kinda person who gets total strangers thinking he's their friend. The people behind the counter know what kind of sandwich he likes and whip two up. He sits us at a table near the window.

"So what's been up with you?" he takes a huge bite of cheesesteak. I ain't supposed to eat shit like this, but no one's going to tell Pop. I tear off a mouthful of greasy cheese and meat. The damn thing is delicious.

"Nothing much," I swallow a sip of Coke. "Just trying to get back into the swing of things."

Brendan nods, but he don't press me for details. I appreciate it. "Training's good?"

"Yup."

"Pop's still good?"

"Happier than a pig in shit."

Brendan snorts. "And Nicole?"

I pause. Truth is, I kinda want to talk to Brendan about her. He's the relationship expert and I'm brand new at this. I bite the bullet and just say it.

"I'm trying to think of somethin' nice to do for her," I say.

"Is it a special occasion?" He wipes his mouth off and stops eating.

"Nah, it's just…" I take another bite, "she's always doing nice shi—stuff for me. And I figured boyfriends are supposed to give their girls flowers or something."

"Does she like flowers?" he asks.

I shrug. "I don't know too much what she likes. Sports I guess. And the beach. And I think she likes the color blue." I sound stupid. Brendan doesn't point it out.

"Well, we know for damn sure she likes you," he says.

"I got no clue why," I say.

Brendan just laughs. "I think most men feel that way."

"I ain't never had a real girlfriend before," I tell him.

"Who'd you date then?"

"You really don't wanna know," I say. He laughs again.

"Nicole isn't like those girls. You're going to have to work to keep her."

"I know," I say. "I just don't know what to do."

"Most women just like simple things. Things that prove you're thinking about them." Brendan balls up the wax paper his sandwich was in.

"Like what?" It's embarrassing, asking these questions, but I gotta know.

"Call her. Write her notes. You should be good at that," he says. I ain't never said nothing to Brendan about my book or those letters. I know how he found out though.

"Nicole told Tess?" I ask.

"And Tess told me," he has the stones not to lie about it. I decide it ain't worth getting pissed over. "I wanna visit her," I tell him.

"You should."

"I need a car." I see him open his mouth. I know he wants to lend me his, or maybe even give me money for one of my own. But I don't want his charity. This is something I gotta do myself.

"I think I'm gonna get a sponsor."

He looks surprised. "You hate them."

"One won't hurt. It'll at least buy me a truck. And if I've got a truck, I can visit her whenever I want."

He nods. "Makes sense."

"She wants me to go to therapy."

I see something in his eyes that looks like happiness. He tries to squash it down, but now I know he thinks it's a good idea too. It makes me feel better for some reason.

"Are you going to do it?" He keeps his voice level.

"Yeah, I think so. A kid from my unit wrote and said he's in it. I guess there ain't no shame in talking to someone." I found Drew's address and sent him a letter checking in on him. He's been writing me back ever since, sending photos of his family and his new girl. I'm glad the kid's doing well.

"It can't hurt," he says.

"Nah. I guess not." I finish my sandwich. We sit silent for a minute.

"Do you love her?" Brendan asks. We both stand up and start heading out.

His question throws me off. "I dunno. How do you know?" I hope no one's overhearing this conversation.

Brendan scoffs. "What do you mean, 'how do you know'?"

He looks over at me. "Shit, Brendan. I'm new at this. Cut me some slack."

Brendan shakes his head. "There's no secret, Tommy. You just know. It's…" he sighs and wipes his face. "Don't repeat this," he tells me.

I laugh. "Like hell I will."

"All right. It's like you think about her all the time, and not just sex or…" he trails off again. "You want to be with her all the time. All of it. And if you're not with her, you're planning what you're going to say the next time you see her."

"So you turn into a sissy."

"Yeah. And you don't even care," Brendan starts laughing.

I'm starting to see a little what made him stay with Tess. I think about Nicole.

It's pretty much the only thing I do anymore. Even when I'm working out, I'm wondering what she's doing, wondering if she misses me at night. Pretty much the only time my phone ever rings, it's her. Makes me happy, seeing messages from her. I ain't never been the texting type, but I message her all day. It's like she's a sickness, and I don't ever want to be cured.

"Guess I could be fallin' for her," I start coughing.

Brendan looks at me hard and starts laughing. He punches me in the shoulder. "You're in trouble, Tommy." He keeps on laughing. Pretty soon I'm laughing too,

"Guess so."

That doesn't seem like such a bad thing at all. Seems like it's driving me to do a whole lot of things I wouldn't do normally. I'm working out harder, keeping myself busy. I'm thinking I might get my GED, maybe start taking some college classes. I tell Brendan. He's happy to give me advice, telling me he'll help me study. He's a good big brother. I guess I forgot about that.

It don't take me long to find a sponsor. One or two phone calls and they're jumping to throw money in my lap. I ain't told Nicole yet. I think I want to surprise her. So I pick out a truck with good gas mileage, pack a duffle bag with clothes and look up directions to Bristol.

"Uncle Tommy, where are you going?" Rosie follows me out to the driveway. I throw my bag in the back and bend down to see her.

"I'm gonna go see my girl, Rosie. I'll be back on Monday."

"Nicole?" she asks in her little girl voice.

"Yup."

"Are you going to kiss her?" She starts to giggle. I smile at her.

"I hope so." Her giggling gets more hysterical. It echoes in my ears on the way to Bristol.

It ain't that long of a drive. Nicole calls me halfway through and I pretend I'm in Philly.

She's laughing and happy on the other line, telling me something about her nephew coming. Maybe I'll get to meet some of her family.

She tackles me when I knock on the door. I'm glad she's happy to see me. She gives me a tour of her house and we cook dinner. It's real normal, like we've always done it.

And when she tells me she loves me, something in my chest feels like it explodes.

I think this might be what other people feel, what truly being happy is like.

When Nicole put herself out there like that selflessly, like she's got nothin' to be afraid of, it reminded me of my Ma, how she loved me to death. I felt like a little kid and like Superman, all at the same damn time.

We go to bed together and just sleep. It's the first time that's ever happened.

She smells good, like vanilla and something I can't place. My arm doesn't hurt for the first time in weeks, I've got no reason to wake up early, nothing to rush off to. It's just me and her.

She sighs in her sleep and wraps her leg around mine.

Just holding Nicole, I am reminded of those corny old saying people are always spittin' out about love. It's like every fruity ballad I've ever heard on the radio, every lovey-dovey thing I've ever read, is running on repeat through my brain. Maybe keeping Nicole by my side won't be too hard 'cause she's the most giving person I've ever known, besides my Ma.

And as I watch her for a while, Brendan's words bouncing around my head, I get what he meant.

I know I love her. We're in love. Never thought it would happen to me.

I lean down and whisper it in her ear.

I know she ain't gonna remember it, but I hope it gives her sweet dreams.

I go to bed thinking fruity thoughts, and I don't even care.

* * *

**The minute I have time, I'm going to write all of you lovely reviewers a personal thank you. You all have no idea how much you make my day. Thank you for all of your feedback and encouragement. Please continue to let me know what you think.  
**


	10. Chapter 10

I'm back in the desert, back in hell. Manny and I are walking with the old regiment and my new one. It's quiet out, but I can't shake the feeling of panic, of something looming over us. Feels like the sun is melting off my skin. Sweat's pouring down my face and getting in my eyes. The saltiness stings, but I don't mind the pain. It keeps me alert.

Manny keeps saying, "I think we're clear," but I keep shaking my head. They don't get it. Whatever it is I'm feeling, I'm the only one because soon everyone's chanting it, "I think we're clear, I think we're clear," over and over again. It's digging into my skull, but I know better. I've been here before.

I start feeling a burning down by my boots. I look at 'em and see that they're starting to melt into the sand and turn into a boiling puddle. I start freaking out. I look at the other men and we're all in the same boat. I try to move, try to get out of my boots but the laces tighten like they're some living thing, keeping me in place. I'm starting to panic worse now, starting to feel my mind go fuzzy. I start flailing, trying to get away. The sand creeps up higher and higher. It's covered up Chris already, and Drew ain't far behind him. I look at Manny. The sand is up to his neck and he's screaming. Screaming for me to save him.

I reach out for him but I tip forward and my hands start boiling into the sand too. I can't get to him, can't even move, just feel the burn of sand crawling over me like flames and hear the planes coming in the background. I try to scream, but the sand goes down my throat, choking me. But it never gets in my eyes. I see my boys falling, one by one, hear that familiar sound of gunfire. The sand is running red now, like a lake of lava, like a river of blood.

"Tommy!" I think it's Manny calling me again, but I can't get to him. Then I hear, "Baby!"

My eyes pop open. I ain't in Iraq or Afghanistan. I'm all tangled up in Nicole's bed, sweating and shaking and out of breath. It don't seem real. Seems like I'm still caught in that dream, like I'm tethered to that nightmare. Her sheets are wrapped around me tight like a noose. I feel like I'm suffocating.

"It's ok," she reaches for me, stroking my hair with her left hand. "You're ok."

I exhale, trying to calm myself down. I focus on her touch, trying to let her rub the nightmare away. I realize I'm crushing her right hand in mine. It startles me and I let go.

"Shit, did I hurt you?" In an instant I'm feeling panicked again, but not for myself.

I know how violent I can get when I'm having a flashback. It works real well in the ring, fuels my anger. But I ain't trying to hurt Nicole. I never even thought about it before, how my nightmares might hurt her. I could kick her, hit her, and if the nightmare gets bad enough, who knows what I could do in my sleep. She's strong for a woman, but there's nothing she could do to overpower me.

"No, no," she tells me, stroking my face with the hand I just let go. "I'm fine," she says.

I don't say anything, just look at her, checking for bruises, redness, making sure she ain't lying to make me feel better.

"I'm fine," she says again. This time she pushes herself into my chest and lays her head on my shoulder. She feels warm and soft, better than any pillow. I wrap her up in my arms and run my hands over her as slow as I can. She relaxes into me, the way she always does, like I didn't just scare her out of sleeping. Her hands flatten out and walk a path up and down my chest, like she's trying to rub the bad dream away. I let her.

It's embarrassing, being so terrified in front of her. Only little kids are afraid of the dark.

Men aren't supposed to wake up screaming. It's one thing for Brendan to see it, but I was hoping Nicole never would. She ain't making a big deal out of it though, hasn't even asked me what it was about. She's just humming real soft, holding me tight, like I'm a fucking baby.

"I thought that maybe after therapy today, that I wouldn't…" I mumble into her sweet smelling hair. She kisses me on the chin and pulls me tighter against her. "It's going to take a while," she tells me, feathering little kisses all down the side of my face.

I like that she doesn't bullshit me. It's a hard truth but it's better than trying to lie to make me feel better. I'm going to have these dreams, the way I have had 'em for years, probably for a long damn time. But it's better waking up to her hugging me than to the crushing darkness.

She's a good woman, better than I deserve. I wonder how I got so lucky.

I wanna tell her something, but I can't seem to get it out. She doesn't say anything more, just starts gently pushing me back until we're laying down. She spreads out right on top of me, like some kinda force field. I grip her hips, trying to show her without words how much I appreciate what she's doing.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," I'm already starting to yawn. Normally I can't fall back asleep after a dream like that. I'm too scared.

"Go back to sleep," she kisses me again and lays her head down. I don't want to fall asleep before she does, but I can't help myself. It's like falling down a deep hole, but a peaceful one this time. I fall asleep thinking of her, feeling her, smelling her.

I don't have any more nightmares that night.

I wake up again. It's still dark outside, but the sky is that inky color it turns right before the sun comes up. It's my favorite part of day, better than the sunset. It's peaceful at this time, with no loud sounds. Everything is sleeping. I think about getting up and taking Nicole outside to watch the sunrise but when I look down, she's passed-out on top of me.

I smile at her. Her hair is all plastered to my chest and she'd probably think she looks a mess. But I like her unguarded and peaceful. Makes me wish I had a camera. I roll her over as slowly as I can, trying not to wake her up. She must be deep asleep because she doesn't even move as I tuck her in and kiss her.

I slip out of her room with all the stealth I learned in the Marines and head out to her kitchen.

It's still clean from last night when I washed it down. I look at her kitchen table and start grinning. It's amazing that thing held up. I don't think I'll test it again though.

Her bed's more comfortable and sturdy anyway.

Nicole has been taking my mood swings like a champ. I know it ain't easy for her.

She looked scared last night after she went balls out and told me she loved me.

It can't be easy, putting yourself out there where someone could hurt you, but she keeps on doin' it, and it's all for me.

I didn't know people could be that selfless. She just rolls with the punches, from me being cranky, to me tackling her on her dining room table and making love to her like the world was about to end. If I keep this up, she's gonna need therapy right along with me.

This surprise visit of mine is probably less relaxing than if I left her alone this weekend.

I know her nephew's coming. She's gonna be stressed when she wakes up.

I decide I'm gonna stick around and make sure this all runs smoothly. I heard her nephew can be a little shit. I ain't ever had a problem dealing with people like that. I'm gonna do what I have to and make sure she has a good day.

I start by making her breakfast. Her fridge is full to the brim, just waiting for a teenage boy to raid it. I make her something just for herself. I ain't claiming to be a 5-star cook, but breakfast I can do. I get out the bread and butter and eggs and start making something I ain't had since Ma died. I think I know how to do it. I butter both sides of bread, cut a hole in the middle and drop it in one of her bright orange frying pans.

The sound of the butter popping in the pan is real soothing, almost like a lullaby. I crack an egg into the center of the bread and stand over it, breathing in the smell of toast and fried egg. It's tricky to get the whole thing to flip over without making a mess. The first time I try, the egg spills all over in the pan, but the second two come out ok. I slide them onto a plate and start making coffee. She has one of those fancy machines with all the buttons and the little cups instead of the regular grounds. It takes me a minute to figure it out, but I have a good time watching it once it gets going. It's amazing the shit people invent.

I can hear Nicole rolling around in her bedroom. It's a nice trick I know, being able to listen. Nothing can teach you to listen like being in a warzone. You start paying attention to shit other people don't even bother to hear, the creaks of the floor or someone's clothes rustling around. I think it might be part of the reason I can be so quiet. You never know what you're gonna hear when you just shut up for a second.

Nicole's bumping around in there. I look over at the clock. She's probably freaking out that her brother is gonna get here and she won't be ready. Sure enough, she comes flying out of her room like a bat out of hell, calling for me.

"Morning," I say as calm as I can. She walks over, trying to see what I'm doing. I yank her over to me and kiss her hard. She tastes all minty from her toothpaste. I press my lips into hers, kissing her slower and deeper than most people do in the morning. But I want her to know how much I love her, and how much it meant to me what she did last night.

She looks a little dizzy when I let her go, but she smiles at me. It doesn't last long though before she's talking about her brother. She sounds like a high school girl afraid of bein' grounded. She don't want her brother to know I slept over. I think it's gonna be pretty damn obvious. A man can always sniff out a lie like that. But I just agree with her.

She smiles at the breakfast. "What's this baby?" she takes a bite.

"Ma used to make it. She called it egg-in-a-basket." I like watching her eat it with that happy look on her face.

"It's good," she says swallowing. "Look at you being all domestic," she teases me, but there ain't no bite to it. I just tug her ponytail. I notice she's wearing my shirt from the night before. Something about seeing her in it gets my blood pumping hard. I'm wondering how long we have alone when her doorbell rings.

I want her to enjoy her food, so I jump up to answer it. She calls after me, but I wave her off. I wanna see her brother for some reason. She knows all my family and I ain't even seen a picture of hers. I wanna get a glimpse of one of the people in her life that mean something to her.

The face I see when I open the door looks a lot like her. If Nicole grew a beard somehow, and a few inches and squared off her jaw, it'd look something like the man on the doorstep. Of course, I ain't never seen Nicole looking as pissed off as this man does. There's a woman and a kid behind him, but he ain't paying any attention to them. He's glaring at me.

"Who are you?" something in his tone pisses me off.

"Tommy Conlon," I try to be polite and hold out my hand.

"And you're at my sister's house because…?" He sounds so damn smug. I've beat the shit outta guys for less.

Nicole gets behind me and pushes through. I can tell she's pissed at her brother. Their faces look the same right now. I picture them as kids. How she dated when she was at home is a mystery, especially if her other brothers are like this guy. She says his name but he ignores her. It makes me even angrier, him brushing her off like that, 'specially since she's doing him a favor.

"What do you think?" I ask him.

"I've got no damn clue, but you've got no business being here this early in the morning," he says. I wanna laugh. It ain't easy to intimidate me but he's tryin' his damn hardest. "This is a family thing."

I feel Nicole starting to get upset behind me. I take a deep breath and try again.

"I'm her boyfriend." I hope it calms him down. I ain't some one night stand. I love his sister.

Nicole tries to talk again, but Mike recognizes me. "He's that fighter guy," he's talking 'bout me like I'm not right here.

"Exactly," Nicole looks relieved, but Mike ain't done yet.

"So now you're sleeping with him?" he almost spits the question out. I get treated to the rare sight of seeing my girl puff up like a viper ready to strike. Looks like she can handle herself against her big brother.

"Holy shit!" a little brown boy with curly black hair is pointing at me with his mouth all open. His dad turns around and bops him in the head. I wanna laugh, but next thing I know, the whole damn family is standing on Nicole's porch, yelling at each other like it's not damn near freezing outside. Mike's wife looks like she might be Latina. I can see parts of her in her son. The boy is still dancing around me like a kangaroo, all excited. "What's up kid?" the boy shakes my hand and introduces himself as Luke. Behind me, I hear Mike saying that Luke isn't staying with some stranger. I don't have a chance to defend myself because everyone else jumps straight down his throat. I take the time to escape to the cab. I walk around the back and haul out their luggage. The cabbie looks at me.

"The fuck's goin' on over there?" he asks me.

"Wish I knew, man," I still wanna laugh a little bit. I start walkin' back and hear Mike and his wife talking to Nicole. I stay back where I can listen without looking like it. Seems like Mike is worried that if his son stays he's gonna get an earful of me and Nicole going at it.

He calls it hanky panky or some shit. I'm dangerously close to laughing my ass off. I can see that Nicole is too. She puts on her reporter face, a tell-tell sign she's trying to hold some emotion in.

"You think I'd just sleep with Tommy with my nephew in the house?" Nicole asks, sounding offended. If bein' horny is Luke's biggest problem, I don't know why his parents are so worried. I remember being that age. If it had tits and an ass, chances are I was willing to fuck it.

He'll grow out of it.

I'm trying to hear what Mike says back when Luke runs up to me, hands up like he wants to play fight. There's something charming about the way kids trust people so quickly. I go along with it, knocking his clumsy fists out of the way and swinging him upside down. He's laughing and yelling at me, but I can still just barely hear Nicole talking.

"He's a good guy?" her brother asks her. I wait for what's she's gonna say. I'm so nervous all the sudden that I almost drop her nephew in the grass.

"The best," she doesn't sound like she needed to think about it at all. I start grinning like a damn fool. She must be crazy to think I'm the best out there, but it's still real nice to hear her say that.

I ain't gonna tell her she's wrong.

Mike's wife is saying that they need to get going, but he grabs his sister and pulls her to the side. I hear him call his son a little shit. I'm right back to wanting to laugh. Mike, even though he's kinda an asshole, is a self-aware man. I can respect that. And I can respect wanting to take care of Nicole too.

She's telling him I might be good for his son. Makes me happy but kinda surprises me that she sees me as a role model. I think Nicole sees the good in everyone, but she sees more good in me than I think is there sometimes. I want to be the man she thinks I am.

I hear Mike apologize, but Nicole waves it off. "Tommy is stubborn. You're stubborn. You'll both get over it." She sounds so sure, just like in her letters. It's like she knows everything will work out, like it's all so simple to her to forgive and forget.

Maybe it is really simple. I look at her hugging her brother and waving him and his wife off and think about Brendan. The times when it's just the two of us, it feels like things could go back, like we could be what we were as kids. Then I start thinking about past shit and get myself all pissed off. Maybe I should just let it go. Maybe bein' stubborn ain't that good of a thing.

I start practicing letting go of shit by walking up the steps and shaking Mike's hand. We talk for a little bit. It's awkward and I can tell we're both happy when it's time for him to go, but Nicole looks pleased with me.

I follow her into the house. Her nephew hauled ass inside, leaving all his shit on the porch.

The boy needs discipline. Even though Pop was a shit dad that was the one thing he was good at.

I sound like him as I bark for Luke to put the food he dug into down and get his crap off the porch. He jumps to attention.

"Look at you," Nicole says to me. We're both watching Luke do the dishes without being told.

"Look at me, what?" I pull her under my arm.

"Being a dad," she says. She's looking at me with those bedroom eyes that get me in trouble.

"You like that?" I ask her.

"I like it a lot," she gives me that devilish grin of hers.

"You know, sweetheart," I kiss her cheek. "It's too bad you promised your brother no 'hanky panky' 'cause you look damn good in my shirt." I kiss her one more time before heading into the kitchen to help Luke. I can hear her laughing and feel her eyes following me.

They follow me for the rest of the day as I play video games with her nephew. He's a talker, just like her, and asks questions a mile a minute. He ain't as bad a kid as I thought he would be.

He just needs something to keep him busy. He seems to like sports. His dad should think about letting him play them.

He looks a little bit Nicole. I keep catching myself wondering what our kids would look like.

It seems soon to be thinking about kids, but I know Nicole would be a damn good mom. She's always taking care of me. She's got that instinct to put other people before herself. I ain't never thought too much about kids, even when Manny started having them. They seem like hard work. But something about Nicole makes me think I can do it. Hell, I think I might even like it.

"Are you going to fight again?" Luke asks me. We're all sitting at her dinner table, eating like we're a family. It's real comfortable.

"Yeah," I tell him. "On New Year's." I'm fighting Rashad Evans. I ain't told Nicole yet. I look up at her to see what she thinks. She smiles at me just a little. We're gonna have to talk about this though. I probably should have told her earlier.

She doesn't bring it up though. By the time night rolls around, I know I can't stay any longer.

It almost kills me leaving. I want to stay, to spend the night, play house. But real life calls.

She walks me out while her nephew is sleeping on the couch. "Your nephew ain't that bad," I tell her. "He's got nothing on Brendan and me when we were that age." I lean on my truck and look at her.

"Thanks for helping me with him," she tells me, wrapping her arms around my neck. I really didn't mind.

"No problem," I smile. "Between your family and mine, our kids are going to have some crazy relatives."

She looks at me like she wasn't expecting that at all. I don't know why I said something so girly.

Probably 'cause I've been trying to think of a way to tell her that I want a family with her, that I love her. Maybe the thing is to just bite the bullet and say it. It takes me a few minutes, but I work up the balls to do it.

"Love you," it ain't no smooth delivery. I kinda just blurt it out like an idiot. But she smiles at me real big, like I just started spouting off Shakespeare. I kiss her again, hoping she realizes that even though I ain't good at saying shit, I really do love her.

As I watch her get smaller in my rearview mirror, all I can think about is seeing her again.

* * *

**So sorry for the delay! I had the nastiest case or writer's block. Thanks to my beta, Tallulah Lullah, for pulling me out of it. Thank you for all of your feedback and encouragement. Please continue to let me know what you think.  
**


	11. Chapter 11

It feels good to be back in the ring again. The world fuzzes out, shrinks down until it's just that little space, just me and some other guy. I don't have to think too much when I fight. It's instinct now. The best part of it is guys are giving me a challenge now, refusing to go down in one hit. I play with them a little bit, give the crowd a show. The guys are getting better but they still ain't that good.

They hit the mat one at a time.

Nicole comes to all of the fights she can. At first, people thought she was there working since she was trying to dress real subtle and not attract attention. It didn't do no good. People knew we were dating when she showed up to my first UFC fight on New Year's Eve, a knockout against Rashad Evans.

No point in hiding it. Midnight rang in and I kissed her, cameras be damned.

Let the whole world know she's mine.

Brendan and Tess traveled with us to Cali for my latest fight against Tito Ortiz. It's nice in LA. It's pretty much Philly, but with more sun. But the people here are the same. They go about their own business, shove past people. They're just doing it in tank tops and flip flops instead of beanies and boots. Nicole fits right in. She's having a good time, showing us her city. Her wild hair and bubbly personality don't seem outta place on the West Coast.

I'm supposed to be meeting her family tonight. I'm getting real nervous about it. If they're anything like her brother Mike, they're gonna run me through the ringer tonight. And it ain't like I'm looking real hot. I got stitches on my eyebrow and I think I got a bruise on my cheek.

I know they know I fight, but still. No one wants their daughter dating a rough neck.

I take my time getting ready, try to pick out something nice. Nicole is waiting for me outside. I know she's getting impatient, but I gotta stall for a little bit. At least until my stomach stops rolling around.

"Baby?" she asks, walking into the locker room. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine sweetheart," I button up my black shirt. I ain't much for shirts that aren't made out of cotton, but I figured I better put some effort in tonight.

"You clean up nice," Nicole walks over to me and starts helping me button my shirt up.

"So do you," she looks gorgeous, as always. I wonder how many outfits my girl owns, 'cause I swear she never wears anything twice. She claims she just knows how to mix and match. Guess I gotta take her word for it.

"Are you ready to meet everyone?" She straightens my shirt out and smiles up at me. I know she's excited about it. I don't want her to know I'm worrying about it.

"Yeah, it'll be nice," I force out a smile. She leans up to kiss me.

"Let's go," she drags me out to the car. She's driving since she knows this city like the back of her hand. I think of Pop and Ma. I don't think Pop ever let Ma drive. I wonder what he'd think if he saw me now. I decide I don't give a shit.

I better call him. I know he wants to congratulate me on another knockout and Brendan and Tess will wanna talk to their girls. Still, it takes a lot of effort to punch that familiar number into my phone. I know Nicole's watching me as I talk. It's hard, showing affection for my Pop.

I don't mind it with my nieces; they're so cute it's hard to not love 'em. But when Pop tells me he loves me, I just tell him "you too" and pass the phone off. I need some time with my dad.

Nicole reaches over and holds my hand as we drive. I swear that girl's a goddamn psychic.

I gotta ask her how she does that, always knows exactly when I need her.

We pull up to an Italian restaurant. I get nervous all over again as we walk through the doors.

Her whole family looks like each other. I know that Brendan and I look alike if you stare real hard, and I can see parts of Ma and Pop's face in my own, but all of Nicole's brothers look like slightly different versions of each other. It's like staring at one person at different points in their life. Mike is the oldest and he's got medium brown skin, Mark is the youngest and he's a taller Mike with darker skin and Steve, the middle kid, is the perfect combo of the two. It's like looking at a bunch of funhouse mirror reflections—one person stretched out or shrunk down. Even Nicole clearly looks like them, just much prettier.

She hugs her mom and dad and I stand in the background, just taking it all in. I see parts of my girl in her parents—her mom's lips and hair, her dad's eyes and dimples. It throws me in a weird space. They're all hugging each other, running around and laughing like it don't bother them at all to be like this in public.

I ain't never met a woman's family before, not like this. Five pairs of eyes stare at me hard when Nicole introduces me. I spot a familiar face in Luke. He's already slobbering all over Brendan, begging for an autograph. It makes me feel like I'm being inspected, checked out.

I shake hands and make introductions, but I'm too nervous to say much. I've got no idea what to do in a situation like this.

Brendan is on it, smiling and laughing and joking like he's known these people for years. I let him take the lead, just like always. I just need a minute to pull myself together. Nicole lets go of my hand to play fight with one of her brothers. I watch them, wondering why I feel so strange.

Her whole family falls around the table like they've got assigned seats. Nicole makes sure I squeeze in next to her. I listen to them bantering, fooling around, chatting. I can't think of anything clever to say, so I stay quiet.

I think it's starting to bother Nicole. She keeps looking over at me like she's worried. I try to smile at her, but I'm starting to feel sick to my stomach. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me. "You ok, baby?" she leans in and whispers in my ear. I feel bad that I'm upsetting her.

"Yeah, just dizzy," I tell her. It ain't a lie.

I kinda feel the way I do right after I wake up from a flashback. This ain't the time or place to have an episode, but here I am. I'm starting to get pissed off at myself.

My brother comes to my rescue. He pulls me outside while everyone's arguing about dessert.

"Tommy, what the hell is wrong?" He don't sound mad, just curious.

"I dunno," I still feel sick. "I think I'm losin' my damn mind."

"Nervous?" he asks. There ain't no point in lying so I just nod. "I felt the same way when I met Tess's folks. Take a second and breathe."

"I'm fuckin' it up with them." It ain't a question.

"The night is not over. Pull yourself together."

I straighten up, focus on breathing. Brandon's telling me some story about his rehearsal dinner. Apparently he got in a fight with his brother-in-law over some stupid shit. Just hearing that Brendan fucks up too makes me feel a little bit better.

"It's weird huh?" he asks me. "Seeing people that are so close like that?"

"Must be nice," I agree.

"Play your cards right and you will be in their family," he tells me. "But you better get your damn game face on, Tommy." He sounds so much like Pop that I start laughing.

"Got it," I exhale one more time. We walk back in together.

Nicole looks surprised when I come in chatting like ain't nothing was wrong, but she don't ask about it 'til later that night. Her parents show us their house. It's cute they still got pictures of their kids up from high school. Nicole's room looks the way it must have when she left home. It's purple with posters of actors and prom pictures tacked all over the walls. I take it all in, smiling at photos of my girl with knobby knees and in her swim team bathing suit. It's like taking a peek into her past. I wish I had time to look more but her parents pull us out, continuing their little tour.

Her parents are old fashioned, but not in that boring or dry way. But they've got us sleeping in different rooms. It ain't just the sex I miss, but the sleep. I don't sleep well unless Nicole is in bed with me. I don't know how it happened so quick, but I'm dependent on her.

Even if I have nightmares, just reaching out and feeling her in the dark next to me calms me down. I'm gonna need her tonight.

We have a conversation about what was going on with me at dinner. I admit that I was nervous. She accepts my apology and makes me promise to tell her when I feel like that in the future. I don't know about all that. If she knew how much I feel uncomfortable about everyday shit, she might start questioning why she is with me.

I have a long night without her. I don't like being in different places that ain't home. I lay awake in the dark, staring up at the ceiling and thinking. I don't wanna fuck everything up with her parents. I know they're important to Nicole and I want them to like me 'cause it means a lot to her. Ma used to say first impressions mean a lot. I need to do better with them tomorrow.

I put my plan in action first thing in the morning. I make myself eat breakfast with them. It's weird, sitting there, eating with people I don't know. But they ain't so bad. Her dad isn't too talkative, but he's still a real sharp guy. His hair is starting to go silver at the temples. The thick white hairs look real bright against the black ones that are still hanging on. He's in good shape for an older guy. He looks like the kinda man that don't take shit, but I'm betting he's hard to rile up. I know Nicole loves him, she talks about him all the time.

Her mom is as pretty as she is. Her smiles come just as quickly and she's as chatty as her daughter can be. She don't waste any time before she's asking me questions, trying to get to know me. I let her. Maybe because she looks so much like Nicole with those full lips and that kind face, but she's easier to talk to than I thought she'd be. She seems real concerned about the bruise on my face. I remember Nicole saying something about her being a nurse. I let her baby me while her husband watches. He gives me this look like he's sorry, but can't do nothing. It's the kinda look you give to someone you know well. They're trying real hard to like me. I can see where Nicole gets that side of her that cares so much about strangers.

Good to know it runs in her family.

"So, how did you and Nicole meet?" her mom, Linda, asks as she swabs out my stitches. It stings a little but I don't say nothing.

"We met last year. At a tournament," I say, picking my words carefully.

"Sparta," her dad, Dwayne, says.

"Yes, sir," I tell him.

"Did you like her right off the bat?" her mom is prying for those romantic details I hate giving. I swallow my pride and think of something to say.

"I thought she was beautiful," I say. I sound like a fucking bad poet.

Her mom smiles. "Did you approach her?"

"She came up to me, ma'am. She wanted an interview."

Her dad starts laughing, "Sounds like Nicole."

"Did you give her one?" her mother asks again.

"It took a little while. I ain't exactly a talkative guy," they both start laughing hard at that. Her mom falls back into her chair and her dad is shaking he's laughing so hard. I'm guessing what I said ain't a surprise to them. I start laughing too, grateful that the ice has been broken.

Nicole walks in on us. She looks a little confused, but happy that we're getting along so well. Her parents start asking her to fill in her point of view on the story. She tells it better than I do, so I make my escape to take a shower.

I don't think I did anything spectacular, but even that little conversation took a lot of effort. I'm hoping it's enough for now. I wanna spend the day alone with my girl, maybe go to the beach like we've been talking about. I ain't had her to myself in a long time. She's been working a lot lately and I've been training. I know it's bothering her. When I bring it up on the beach, she starts crying. I know I shouldn't be happy that she's upset, but I'm grateful for the chance to comfort her for once. I always feel like she's givin', givin', givin' and I just take. It's nice to hold her in my arms, to dry her tears, to kiss her sadness away.

She asks me if I think we're gonna make it.

I try to think of somethin' to say back to her. If I've got anything to do with it, we're gonna make it for a long time. I ain't gonna let her go without a fight. I've been thinking about it a lot lately, about proposing. I know that if I ever was gonna get married, it would be to Nicole. I don't want anyone else. It's her or nothin'. That don't sound like the prettiest of sentiments though, so I try and tell her something nice.

"We better. I've made plans and I don't feel like changing them." I watch her face carefully, trying to feel out what she thinks about me sayin' that. I'm hopin' she feels the same. She at least looks curious.

"Plans for what?" she asks me.

"Hang in there and find out." I tell her. She smiles at me a little bit. I've been tryin' to drop little hints that I wanna be with her for the long haul. I'm hopin' that she's startin' to pick up on them. She climbs into my lap and I start playing with her hair. She sighs into me and tells me she loves me. Still shocks me when she says that. It's like gettin' a present every time.

"Even when I'm bein' a dick?" I hope she ain't still upset 'bout last night. She smiles again though, like the whole thing's funny.

"Maybe a little less then, but yes."

"I love you too," it's easy to say that now.

"Even when I cry for no reason?" she asks. I hope she don't think that I think she's some kinda crazy emotional woman.

"You never cry for no reason." I tell her. She snuggles closer into me._  
_

"Then what do I cry about?"

"Normally, you cry for me," I tell her. "It's nice to have someone who cares enough to cry for you." I leave off the thank you. She looks touched enough by what I said. She cranes her head up to stare at me. Scares me when she does that. It's like she's readin' my mind or somethin'. I hold her gaze, thinkin' real hard about all the nice shit she's done for me. If she really can read my mind, she'll know that I'm more thankful than I can tell her.

I should be a better boyfriend. I should buy her flowers and write love poems and leave her chocolates and all that shit. She deserves that.

She gets a real serious look on her face. "There's far more good in you than bad," she tells me.

She sees the silver lining in every cloud. I don't know how she saw good in me, 'specially last year at Sparta. I was a wreck then. It's better now, but I gotta long way to go. But the longer I spend with her, the better I seem to get. I tell her so. I think I'm blushing when she says it, but her smile is worth it. I'm half expectin' her to make that "awwwww" sound that women are always makin'. Instead she starts spouting off that romantic stuff that I ain't no good at saying. She's comparing us to a rollercoaster. She tells me there ain't no one she'd rather be on it with.

I always liked rollercoasters. I'd rather us be that than a Ferris Wheel goin' around in circles. My whole life was a self-destructive circle. With Nicole, I'm at least goin' somewhere. I gotta thank her for that.

I make love to her slowly, taking my time. I want her to feel good, want her to feel how much I need her, how much I want her. I'm doing a damn good job, if her moaning is any indication. Just the sound of her voice saying my name is enough to get me going. It ain't fair, what she can do to me. Every time I try to be slick, she turns the tables. She's on top of me, challenging me.

I could roll her back over, but I let her have her moment. It ain't like she don't deserve it.

And it definitely ain't like I mind. I can see every inch of her from this angle and all of her looks perfect. It's hard to stay in control; every time she moans my name I wanna just grab her and have my way. But I let her set the pace, until finally I can't take it anymore.

When we're finished, I lay with her real quiet, just watching the waves roll in and out. I've never looked at the ocean like this before. The one time my family went when I was a kid, Brendan and me just ran around, splashing. But now, there's something serene about it, something that makes me feel real small. It reminds me the world's a bigger place than my problems.

I drift in and out of sleep with my woman in my arms, naked. She's not talking for once, but I don't think she wants to. The real world is way off somewhere, waiting for us to come back and deal with it. But for now, it's enough to be laying in the warm sand, just being quiet and listening to the water.

I think about her letters from last year, how she said she wanted to go to the beach with me.

I don't know if I ever thought we'd actually be here. I figured something might happen to me, or maybe she'd be done with waiting for me.

But here we are. And as Nicole rolls over and tells me she loves me, I realize that I've got a helluva lot to be thankful for.

I kiss her as she falls asleep in my arms. I don't plan on waking her up. The real world can wait.

* * *

** Thank you for all of your feedback and encouragement! I appreciate it so much! Please continue to let me know what you think.  
**


	12. Chapter 12

I stare at myself in the mirror the morning before my 30th birthday. Never thought I would get here, and even if I did, I didn't think I would be where I am now. I guess I figured I'd still be in the Corps, maybe in Texas with Manny, or maybe somewhere by myself, pill popping and bar brawling. Sure as hell didn't think I'd be somewhere in the Burgh with my Pop and my brother and my girl. Life's surprising sometimes.

It's weird, looking at myself. I don't look as old as I feel, which I guess is lucky. I've lived alotta life to this point. I guess I'm expecting it to show somewhere, but my hair's still as brunette and full as it was in high school. I don't have too many wrinkles, just maybe some lines around my eyes. The only thing that looks different about me since high school is I'm taller now and got more tattoos and more muscle. And maybe I look happier.

It's been 16 years and this is the longest stretch of time where I haven't been pissed off. I'm not gonna say I'm looking forward to my birthday, but I'm not dreading it. I haven't had a birthday party in years. Sure I went out for drinks, picked up a few chicks, but none of that cake and candles nonsense. I gotta feeling that Nicole might be planning something for me. I can't decide if I want her to or not. Best birthday present she could give me is just being here.

But I know she's gonna go all out. She doesn't half ass nothing.

She's doing something now, I know it. I'm playing along. I think Brendan's in on it and maybe even Pop. I'm at Pop's house now, cleaning up after training. It's still weird being up in my old room. It hasn't changed since I left. My shit's still all up, my trophies, my posters, a box of clothes I left behind when Ma and I ran. It's all clean, like Pop or Brendan was taking care of it, like it was just sitting there, waiting for me to come back.

I pick through it, looking at my wrestling awards. It's the one thing in my life that hasn't changed. Pop was a boxer and so was his dad, all the way back to my great-grandpop from Ireland who fought to make a living in the States. Fighting's in the Conlon blood.

"Tommy, you ok?" Brendan leans his head in the doorway. I glance over at him. He's only two years older, but he seems miles away from me. I wonder if I'm gonna be where he is by the time I'm 32. Having a family never seemed like something for me, but now it's all I think about.

"Just waitin'," I tell him. I sit down on my old bed. He walks in and sits on his, facing me.

It's just like high school. Sometimes I miss sharing a room with him.

"For Nicole?" He leans back against the wall behind him. There's a Pittsburgh Steelers towel up there. I was always the Eagles fan, and he was always a Steelers guy. Used to keep shit interesting during football season. I wonder if he still likes them, now that he's in Philly.

"She's got somethin' planned?" I ask him. He laughs.

"Probably. I don't know what it is though," I know he's not lying. Brendan would tell me.

We sit in silence for a little bit before he asks me, "Ready to be thirty?"

"Fuck no."

He starts laughing, "It is not _too_ bad. It has its perks."

"Feels old," I say.

"Watch it," he throws his pillow at me. I catch it and toss it back. He throws it over again until we make a game outta it.

"Feels like a long time to be alive, and I ain't done shit," I say, throwing the old, flat pillow back.

"What do you mean? You have fought a war, competed in the world's biggest fighting tournament, and you are dating a TV star," he says.

"Sounds a hellalot better when you put it that way," I snort. "But that's just shallow shit."

Brendan catches the pillow, looking hard at me. "You have time, you know, to start a family. You are not old," he throws it back, "and Nicole is not old either."

"She'd be a good mom." I'm hoping he agrees.

"You talked about it?" He catches the pillow and throws it back.

"Nah." I toss it to him.

"But you are thinking about it? Settling down?" He holds onto it again.

"Yeah. Feels like I'm fuckin' turnin' into one of those sensitive girly guys."

He shakes his head and ignores my comment, "Have you looked at rings yet?"

"Don't know shit 'bout jewelry."

"Is Nicole picky about things like that?"

"Don't think so."

Brendan finally tosses it back. "Tommy, are you serious about this? About getting married?"

He looks a little shocked, and I don't blame him. I'm still having a hard time wrapping my mind around it. "For Nicole, yeah, I am." We stare at each other for a while.

I'm starting to wonder what he thinks when he starts talking.

"She is good for you," he tells me. "You have been a lot less of a dick." He throws the pillow at me hard. I jump up and tackle him, shoving him into a headlock. He just keeps laughing. We're still banging around the room when Tess comes running upstairs. She takes one look at us, punching at each other and rolls her eyes.

"Nicole is here," she tells us both. "I think she brought someone with her."

This sparks my interest. I don't got too many friends in the Burgh, and none that she knows.

If she brought someone with her, I probably don't know 'em.

Which is why I'm surprised when I open the door and see Pilar and the kids standing there.

It takes a coupla seconds to register that I'm not losing my mind, then I'm running outside, snatching up my godson and hugging Pilar.

I can't believe that my girl did this for me. It's nice to see my old friend, to see the kids again. They look good, healthy and happy. I worry about them all the time, but it looks like they're doing fine. They brought cake and ice cream with 'em, but I don't care 'bout that. It's just good to see that what Manny left behind is doing fine.

The kids look just like him, 'specially his daughter. She gets along real well with Rosie and Emily. They run wild while all the grown-ups talk. Pilar's telling me how the kids've been. She don't mention the money I gave her, and I'm glad. People see it as a gift, but it was a promise Manny and me made. If something happened to one of us, the other one was supposed to take care of who we left behind. I wish I didn't have to do it, I wish Manny was here too, but for the first time in a long time, I don't feel sad when I see his kids.

It's nice to have something that reminds me of him.

I glance over at Nicole while Pilar is talking. She looks like she's spacing out a little bit. I wonder if she's bored. I haven't been paying too much attention to her the last few hours. I feel a little bad. I gotta make it up to her later, but I don't wanna do it in fronta everyone. I reach for her hand and squeeze it. She smiles at me.

Pilar stops talking for just a second, but I catch her glancing at us holding hands.

She tries to look away quick, but the damage is done. I caught that look in her eyes.

I thought she was over her feelings for me. Figured it was just a passing thing. But that look proves it wasn't.

A year or so ago I went back and visited her, right after I deserted. I felt like I had to, even though I just wanted to disappear. I made a promise and I was gonna keep it, even if it killed me. It was hard to watch her crying, 'specially when I felt like a fucking wreck myself.

I tried to comfort her. I just didn't count on her taking my hugs as a romantic thing.

Shocked the hell outta me when she kissed me. Shocked me more when she started touching me. Took a lot to not knock her off me.

I love Pilar the way someone loves a friend, but I've never wanted her that way. She was always Manny's girl, and that's how I'm always gonna see it.

I thought I made that clear back then, but maybe she didn't get it. I'm thinking Nicole sees it too. The way she's smiling at Pilar's not how she normally smiles. Seems forced, like she's trying damn hard to be nice. She don't let Pilar outta her sight. I think she's jealous.

I ain't gonna lie, Nicole being all territorial's got me riled up. It's damn sexy, those looks she's giving and the way she keeps making sure to position herself close to me. Pilar better watch herself. Probably shouldn't get a kick outta it, but it's nice to know Nicole feels the same way I do when someone gets too close to her.

Still though, the two women're being real nice to each other, considering I don't think they like each other much. I'll never fucking understand how women fight. Don't make an ounce of sense.

The three of us end up sitting in Pop's backyard after Brendan and his girls go home. Nicole's pretending to sleep next to me. She might be fooling Pilar, but I know better. I can see the little twitches her face makes in response to what Pilar and me're talking about. When she's really asleep, nothing's gonna wake Nicole up.

Pilar starts asking personal questions, prying into our relationship.

Pisses me off a little bit, 'specially when she starts acting like I'm only with Nicole for the sex.

She brings up my past of bed hopping with bimbos. I figured I'd tell Nicole 'bout it at some point, but I damn sure didn't want her to find out like that.

"She's good to you?" Pilar asks me.

"The best." Don't even gotta think 'bout that. No one's better than Nicole.

"She knows how much baggage you come with, right?" Pilar keeps right on interrogating me.

"What's that mean?" I'm starting to get pissed.

She spews out some shit about how hard it was with Manny and how she's just concerned.

I think she's just being nosy, but I don't call her on it.

"I'm not trying to offend you," she tells me. "Tommy, you are so good with making sure the kids and I are taken care of. I am just making sure someone is taking care of you."

I believe her. Shit's been hard for both of us, but I only got me to worry about. She needs someone to take care of her, more than I can. I love her and the kids, but I'm not gonna step in and replace my best friend. I got my own life to start. She's gonna have to get on with hers.

"You need someone. Someone closer than I am." I hope she gets my point.

Manny wouldn't want her alone, but I'm not gonna be her someone.

"One day, maybe," she tells me all shiny-eyed, "The hurt is too fresh."

I know the feeling. But she'll be ok. Pilar's a survivor. She's just confused right now.

Nicole pretends to wake up. That ends our conversation. I'm relieved. I watch the two women walk upstairs together. They got some shit to settle. I hope Nicole can do it without killing one of my oldest friends. I clean up outside.

By the time I make it back up to my room, Nicole's sitting on my bed, spacing out. I climb in behind her, pull her to me. She talks to me 'bout Pilar. Surprises me when she admits she's jealous, but I shoulda expected it. Nicole's not one for holding in her emotions.

I tell her about that time in Texas. Her face twists up. I know she's upset. I gotta change that.

"She ain't tried since," I tell her. "Wouldn't matter if she did." Nicole's the only girl for me.

She starts apologizing but I cut her off. She's got no reason to be sorry at all. She gave me the best birthday I've had in years. I tell her so. She blushes real cute.

I keep flirting, buttering her up with all them sappy things I wouldn't let no one hear me say in public. She melts right in my arms.

With a minute left to go 'til my birthday, she jumps up and starts dropping her clothes. And goddamn, she's wearing this red and black lace number that's making my brain go fuzzy.

I don't even realize that I got up and went to her until she's in my arms. I don't waste time with foreplay, but she ain't complaining. She wraps her legs around my waist.

In the background I hear my clock beep. I'm officially 30 years old.

I can't think of a better way to start another decade than being inside of Nicole. I tell her so.

Her eyes get real shiny, like she's gonna cry. But she just wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me hard. "Happy 30th Birthday, Tommy," she gasps against me.

I don't have anything to say. I lay her down on my bed. Actions speak louder than words anyway.

* * *

** Thank you for all of your feedback and encouragement! I appreciate it so much! You all are the best! Please continue to let me know what you think.  
**


	13. Chapter 13

I pull my truck into the driveway of Brendan's house. It's dark on the street, but it looks like his living room light is on. I'm dreading going back in there.

Last time my brother and me fought, I ended up with a dislocated shoulder. I'm thinking I'd rather deal with that than the shit storm I'm about to walk back into.

"Baby, are you all right?" Nicole reaches over from the passenger seat and touches my leg.

"Scared shitless." No point in lying. She gives me one of those sweet, sympathetic looks of hers.

"He is your brother, Tommy. It's going to be ok." Lightening quick, she leans over and kisses me. Then she hops outta my truck, and looks at me.

I know what she wants me to do. We just spent the last coupla hours talking about it. I gotta go in there and apologize to my big brother. Trouble is, I don't know where the fuck I'm s'posed to start. I got a whole laundry list of almost 15 years of shit I'm sorry for.

The big thing is Ma though. Been 14 years since she died, and I never said nothing about it to Brendan, not then and not now. Not 'til today. I don't even think he knew the damn date she died. But I've been feeling shitty about it all week. Musta started to show on my face, 'cause Brendan asked me about it when we was working out today.

That's when the shit hit the fan. Don't know what I was thinking, saying all that in front of Brendan and Pop. I can't get the way their faces looked outta my head. Brendan didn't need to know all the gruesome details. I shouldn'ta said it, shouldn'ta told them about her coughing up blood and crying and praying. Maybe I just needed to tell someone, or maybe I just wanted them to feel as shitty about it as I do.

Pop got real sad, like he was collapsing on himself. He didn't wanna hear no more, but Brendan couldn't stop. He kept prying, tryna get me to explain. I guess he wants closure. But he ain't gonna get it, not the kind he wants. He never gotta say goodbye to Ma and it's my damn fault.

I shoulda called him. I knew she was gonna die, even if I was lying to myself. I wanted to call him, and not just 'cause Ma was sick. I needed Brendan back then. I probably coulda had him if I just had picked up the fucking phone.

Nicole says I can't change the past. I know that. But that don't stop it from hurting like hell sometimes. It wasn't no fun, standing there, yelling hurtful shit at Brendan. I said terrible shit, things I didn't even mean. I brought up Tess, trying to make him feel guilty about it. Made me feel sick afterwards. I sounded like Pop on a bender throwing accusations and cussing up a storm. I didn't mean to do it, but it's easier focusing on the stuff that hurts me than the stuff I've done wrong. The Conlon men are stubborn, but I think Nicole's right.

We gotta let this shit go before it kills us.

"Tommy," Nicole comes around to my side of the car and opens the door. She grabs my hand.

"Yeah, sweetheart, I'm comin'," I tell her. I look at my girlfriend, standing there in the most mix-matched outfit of my gray shirt and her bright skirt thing. She ain't even got on shoes. Her and Tess came home from the pool with the girls and found Brendan and me fighting in the kitchen. Nicole came after me when I stormed out. Didn't even have time to grab her sandals, just hurried off after me. She said she didn't want me to be alone. I appreciate it.

She just listened to me talking about Ma. I ain't told no one about it in years, not since Manny and me met. Just telling someone who gave a shit helped. Nicole has this way of making me feel better just by being there. I wish she coulda met Ma. I think they woulda liked each other.

She leads me towards the house. I don't have keys, so we haveta wait for someone to let us in. I'm relieved and disappointed when it's Tess that answers and not my brother.

"You guys are ok?" Tess's eyes are all swollen up and red. I'm guessing she and Brendan have been going through the same thing Nicole and I just did.

"Yes. Are you?" Nicole hugs Tess real tight. I feel bad for the shit Conlon men are putting those two through. Brendan and I need to nip this shit in the bud.

"Is Brendan here?" Tess jumps a little at my voice. Guess I can't blame her. Last time she heard it, I was cussing her husband out in her kitchen.

"He's in the den," she tells me. Nicole looks at me and gives me a nod. I take a deep breath, give her a kiss and walk off down the hall.

Feels like my feet are made of lead. Takes forever to get down the hallway. I knock on the door. Brendan pulls it open without asking who it is. "Tommy." Guess he was expecting me.

We stare at each other for a minute while I try to figure out the best way to say what I need to.

I settle on the obvious statement. "I'm sorry."

I might as well have smacked him, he looks so shocked. He pulls it together though and moves over so I can get in the room.

"I shoulda told you 'bout Ma," I keep talking, trying to get it all out before I lose the nerve.

"I wanted to back then. Wish I could go back in time and change it. Think 'bout it all the fuckin' time. I shouldn'ta done that to you." I can't look at him. I might start crying again.

Brendan makes this sound like he's choking. Breaks my heart.

"I should have gone with you. You didn't deserve to go through that alone," he says.

"You didn't know that was gonna happen," I say.

"Yeah, but—"

"No buts. You were the one stuck with Pop. You couldn'ta known what was gonna happen to Ma. I shoulda called. We were scared."

"I know," Brendan sniffles. "I thought about you guys all the time. I missed you guys. I'm sorry I did not come with you."

We're both standing in his den, crying like little girls. "Guess we're just a sorry pair then."

He chuckles a little bit. "I guess so."

"You know I love you, right?" I ain't sure I ever really told him before.

"Yeah, I know," he looks up at me. "I love you too."

He pulls me into a hug and I let him. Makes me feel like a little kid, like when he used to rock me when Pop and Ma were getting into it. I hug him so hard that it hurts. I don't know how long it lasts, but I feel better when it's over, like a weight's been lifted.

Brendan goes upstairs to his wife and I go to the pullout bed in the living room. Nicole is in it, but I know she's not sleeping. She's still in my t-shirt, but she's finally outta her bathing suit.

"How did it go?" she whispers to me after I change for bed and join her.

"Good." I lick my lips. I hope she understands, but I wanna keep that between Brendan and me.

She nods. "You made up?"

"Yeah, I think so," I tell her.

She starts playing with my hair. I lean into her touch and grab one of her hands. It's so soft and small. I drop a kiss on her warm skin. She sighs and curls into me.

"I love you, Tommy," she tells me, whispering into my chest. "You are a good guy."

I don't feel it so much tonight, but I thank her anyway. "I love you too, sweetheart," I kiss her. She falls asleep, but I lay awake, thinking.

Brendan and I missed a lot in 14 years, alotta big milestones. I didn't see his wedding or his kids when they were babies. I didn't watch him graduate from college, didn't see his first day teaching. He didn't see me enlist, didn't get to hear about how I felt when I left the country for the first time, didn't get to come to Ma's funeral. I'm sick of us leaving each other outta the important stuff.

Which is why the next morning I drag him to a jewelry store with me. He was asking if I got Nicole a ring. He can help me pick one.

"Where are we going?" He's sitting in the passenger seat of my truck. It's still a little awkward. But I'm gonna change it somehow.

"The mall," I turn into traffic.

He snorts, "Shopping? You're taking me shopping?"

"I need your opinion," I reach over and punch him in the arm.

"On what? Jeans? I think Nicole would have been the better choice." He keeps on laughing.

"A ring."

He stops laughing in a second and looks at me, "No shit?"

"No shit," I tell him.

He leans back into the seat of my truck, looking like he's thinking real hard.

"Why do you want me to come?"

I was hoping he wouldn't make me say it, but I guess I owe him. "Cause you know 'bout shit like this and…I wanted my big brother with me for this."

He nods. "All right. Thanks for asking me to come."

"Thanks for comin'," I tell him.

We don't talk no more in the car. The mall is crowded, crawling with people rushing around, buying shit they don't need. Brendan knows where he's going though, so I just follow him.

"What store do you want to try first?"

Fuck if I know. "There's more than one?"

He looks at me and rolls his eyes. "Shit, Tommy, do you know anything about this?"

"Why'd ya think I brought you?"

He keeps on shaking his head as we walk into a store. It's full of those clear glass cases with all the diamonds laying on those velvet blanket things. The lights are shining right off the jewelry and into my eyes, making me squint. We look at some rings, but they're all the huge, gaudy things. I think they're ugly. I don't want Nicole wearing some big ass chunk of metal on her hand. Her fingers are too tiny for that shit. She won't be able to lift her hand up.

"See anything?" Brendan asks. I shake my head. We brush off the disappointed salesman and try another store. Three stores later and I'm starting to get pissed off.

Brendan tries to calm me down. "Took me forever to find Tess's ring. Be patient."

"Would you like to look at custom items, sir?" a saleswoman asks me.

"Yeah, sure," I say. She looks upset at my lack of enthusiasm, but goes and gets some brochures. Soon me and Brendan are sitting with her in a back room, looking at pictures of gold and silver bands and every kinda diamond known to man. I didn't even know you could get a pink diamond, or a diamond cut in a heart shape.

I glare at the pages, hoping something jumps out of me.

"What is your girlfriend like?" the saleswoman asks, trying to be helpful.

"Dunno."

The lady looks puzzled but I continue, "I mean, she dresses real well, but she ain't high maintenance or nothin'."

"So maybe something simple?" she suggests.

"Yeah, but these are kinda bland," I point to the page. The diamonds are all the same color as the bands. It's too boring for my girl. Nicole's got personality. The saleswoman looks offended though. I try again, "I mean, no offense, but I kinda want somethin' colorful."

Brendan is trying not to laugh. I know I ain't making this easy on her, but this is her job. I ain't the ring expert, she is.

"We can offset it with another stone," she don't sound as friendly as she did when we first came in. "What's that blue one called?" I ask.

"Sapphires?" Brendan asks.

"Yeah. Could I get this ring with sapphires 'round it?" I point to a simple looking round diamond on a thin, pretty band

"Smaller stones?" she asks.

"Yeah."

"What quality?" she asks.

"What's the best you got?"

She looks surprised. She starts spouting off details and prices, but I don't wanna hear any of it.

I want the best for Nicole. Don't care how much it costs.

I'm gonna win Sparta anyway, so I'm not gonna be broke. And even if I don't win, I'll find some way to pay for it.

"Look at you, big pimping," Brendan laughs as we wander out to the food court.

I gotta sketch of what Nicole's ring is gonna look like. The lady promised it would be done before I leave for Sparta. Now I just gotta figure outta good way to ask her to marry me.

"How'd you do it?" I ask Brendan.

"Propose?" he asks. I nod. "Tess and I were 22. I had just graduated. She came to watch the ceremony. Afterwards, we were outside, taking pictures and I just dropped on one knee." He gets this little smile on his face.

"Right there? With people around?"

"Yeah," he laughs, "I still had my cap and gown on. Her family was watching." That takes balls. I tell him so. He keeps on laughing. "How are you going to do it?" he asks me.

"Dunno. Damn sure ain't gonna be in front of all you though."

"Well, how long are you going to wait?"

"Till after Sparta. I want it to be just me and her," I tuck the sketch into my pocket.

"Just remember, take a deep breath before you ask, and for the love of God, don't forget to get on your right knee," he says, dead serious.

"The knee's a big deal?"

"A huge deal."

"I'll remember."

"What are you going to say?"

I don't know. Shit, he's making me nervous. "I was just gonna ask."

"You have to be smoother than that. You need to practice," he says. "Practice on me."

"Now?" We're sitting in the middle of a crowded mall, eating sub sandwiches.

"Now." When I still don't move, he says it again. "Come on, Tommy. Practice on me."

"I can't." This's so damn embarrassing.

"Why not?"

"'Cause you ain't her. I ain't gonna tell you the corny shit I tell her."

Brendan smiles. "What corny shit do you tell her?" He's enjoying teasing me.

"Ain't tellin'."

"Come on, Tommy," Brendan looks at me really hard. I sigh.

"That I love her." I know I'm turning bright red. I hope no one else hears us.

"And I'm happy with her…and she makes me wanna be a better person and…."

Feels like my throat is swelling up.

"That you want to spend forever with her?" Brendan suggests.

"Yeah," I start choking.

"That you want her to have your kids? Start a life? Ride off on a unicorn into the sunset?" Brendan starts laughing.

"Fuck you," I throw my wadded up napkin at him.

"Seriously though, Tommy," he stops laughing long enough to tell me, "this is great. I am really proud of you."

He's making it worse. I must be red as a damn tomato by now.

"You might wanna get that blushing under control before you ask though," he can't resist one last dig. I jump up and he goes running off. I know we look crazy, but I can't help chasing him through the food court. He beelines straight for the door and takes off into the parking lot.

I'm hauling behind him. I almost catch him, but he jumps behind my truck.

"I shoulda left you at home," I tell him. I'm outta breath.

"Then who would you have practiced with? Pop?"

I start laughing with him. We climb into the truck and I smack him upside the head.

"Nicole is lucky to be getting you," he tells me.

"Figured it was the other way around," I start the truck.

"Marriage is a two way street," he says. "You're going to wish that you hadn't done it sometimes, and every once in a while it's going to be very hard. But you have to fight for it. I know you Tommy. You don't love easily, but when you do, you hold onto it with both hands. You two will be ok."

I'm suddenly feeling real emotional. Just hearing that Brendan thinks I'm good enough for Nicole, that he thinks we're the real deal, makes me feel all proud. I can't look at him.

"You gotta stop with this sissy shit," I choke out. "You're turnin' me into a girl."

"All right," he shakes his head. "I'll stop."

We drive around, just shooting the shit for a while. I know our women are waiting for us, but we ain't ready to go home yet. By the time we pull up, it's late afternoon. Nicole and Tess are in the front yard, watching Emily and Rosie play.

"Where did you two go?" Tess asks us as we hop out.

"Nowhere important," Brendan answers her, dropping a kiss on her lips. He winks at me over his wife's head. Nicole looks at me questioningly.

"I'll tell you later, sweetheart." I grab her hand. She lets the issue drop. I sit out on the stoop with her in my lap, playing with her fingers.

"Are you and Brendan ok?" she asks me quietly.

"Yeah, we're ok."

"I'm glad," she tells me, leaning up to kiss me. We watch him and Tess running around the yard with their girls.

"Do you think that could be us one day?" she asks me all the sudden.

She's biting her lower lip like she's real nervous. I turn her face towards mine and kiss her hard. I can hear Rosie and Emily squealing "ewwwwwwwww" in the background, but I don't care. Nicole looks a little stunned when I finally pull away.

"I hope so," I tell her.

She smiles so hard it's like the sun came out all the sudden. My nervousness starts to disappear.

I keep playing with her fingers, running my hands over the smooth skin.

I hope that in a coupla weeks, she's wearing my ring.

* * *

** I cannot convey my appreciation for all of the reviews, and messages and encouragement and compliments that so many of you are throwing my way. I wish I could thank all of you individually. Please continue to let me know what you think!  
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	14. Chapter 14

I don't think Nicole's ever seen me nervous before until Randy Couture walks up to me at Sparta. I'm stuck doing all the shit I tried to avoid last year. They got me in here signing autographs like some kinda goddamn movie star. I don't mind posing with the kids, but the grown men that skip up to me like they know me are starting to piss me off. I'm trying real hard to be nice, 'specially 'cause my girl is having so much fun. It's getting hard though.

Some of the other fighters are walking around posing with each other like we ain't gonna be trying to beat each other half to death tomorrow. I ain't got time for that fake shit.

At least when Rampage Jackson came up to me, he wasn't bullshitting. They might get me in here rubbing elbows with fans, but I ain't gonna make nice with guys I gotta fight.

The only other option is talking to the vets. It ain't a chore. I'm pin balling around between guys I watched fight when I was coming up, guys I patterned my game on. I feel like a little kid in a toy store on the inside, but I'm trying to be real calm. These guys, guys like Chuck Liddell and Eugene Jackson, are telling me they're my fans. Don't seem real.

I keep it together til Randy Couture comes up to me. I see his bald head coming before he gets there and I feel my legs lock up. He's bee-lining straight for me. Nicole glances over at me.

"Is that Randy Couture?" Sometimes I forget she's new to this fighting thing.

I nod. She keeps looking at him. He waves at us and she waves right on back, like he's some average Joe just walking down the street. I'm tryna think of something clever to say when he stops right in front of me.

"Conlon, my man," he's grinning, "nice to meet you."

"You too, sir," I wanna kick myself. I'm freezing up like a teenage girl with a crush.

"You've got talent," he tells me. "I'm lookin' forward to seeing you fight."

All I can do is nod. I'm trying not to turn red or smile like an idiot. "Thank you," I pretty much stutter it out.

"Is this your girl?" he glances over at Nicole. She's smiling all big and bright, looking as beautiful as she usually does.

"Nicole," she shakes his hand. She's a natural at this. She's asking him little questions, keeping his attention on her. She's buying me time to think of something to say. I'm starting to understand why some of the kids today have been walking up to me shaking in their shoes.

"So," Couture turns back to me, "Do you have a plan to win this thing?"

I decide to answer the way I woulda if he had been some regular guy. "Beat the shit outta everyone else."

The second I say it, he starts laughing his ass off. I smile a little, feeling better.

"You have balls, kid." Coming from Couture, it's high praise. I think I blush a little.

"Can I get a picture of you two?" Nicole pulls out her camera and holds it up. Couture nods, grabs me by the shoulders and smiles. I'm pretty sure I'm grinning like an idiot in the picture, but I don't care.

"Better shut your mouth, babe," Nicole starts teasing me the second he walks away. She tucks her camera into her purse. "You're starting to drool."

"I used to watch that guy," I tell her. I'm still a little dizzy from meeting him. "He was an animal." I wish she could know how much I looked up to that guy as a kid. I needed a role model. Couture was a better one than Pop was back then.

"So are you," she grabs my hand and pulls herself close to my side. She starts looking 'round the hotel and bites her lower lip with that worried look she always gets when I'm 'bout to fight.

"So are a lot of guys in here," she looks from fighter to fighter.

"You worried?" It ain't really a question. She's always worried 'bout me. Still though, it seems like more than her usual amount before I fight.

"I would be lying if I said I wasn't," she looks up at me with this kinda sad look. I wonder what's worrying her, if she's thinking I'm gonna get beat up, or if she's thinking I might lose.

There ain't no chance of me losing. I gotta win this, for more reasons than one.

This is my ticket to a new start. I can make an actual name for myself as a fighter, not just as the tough guy who lost, but someone who went all the way to the top. It's what I've been dreaming of doing since I was in high school.

Plus, I got plans for them 7 million dollars.

Last year, I wanted it for Pilar, so I could take care of the family Manny left behind. This year I want it for myself. I want that big house, the picket fence, kids everywhere.

If I win this, I could get it. I would have enough money to make a future, a future with Nicole.

I wanna give her the world. The best of everything. And with 7 million dollars, I can do it.

So I'm gonna win. She ain't got nothing to worry 'bout.

A couple of bruises are a small price to pay for a life with her.

'Sides, I ain't half as nervous 'bout the fight than I am 'bout the ring burning a hole in my suitcase.

I drape my arm over her shoulder and kiss her, telling her not to worry. She smiles up at me and relaxes a little, but I know she ain't gonna calm down 'till I got the belt 'round my waist. I better make these fights fast or she's gonna have a nervous breakdown.

I leave Nicole upstairs with Tess while Brendan and me go train with Pop. We don't talk much.

I gotta win this. I chant it in my head as I spar with Brendan. Sure, I wanna win it for me, but it's more than that. I want to be the best, be the man Nicole thinks I am.

I ain't never thought like that before, ain't never considered other people when I thought about my future. But it's all I do now. I'm sick of being just me by myself, or doing everything alone.

I want what Manny had, what Brendan has, what Ma and Pop shoulda had. And this is my first step.

I wonder if Brendan thinks like this. I know he's always considering what Tess would want, even if it's something simple like going out to watch a game. He don't move a step without asking her if it's ok. Used to think of it as being pussy whipped, but maybe he actually likes it that way.

I must be thinking about all this a little too hard, 'cause I ring Brendan's bell a little bit. He drops back and looks at me, shaking it off.

"Goddamn, Tommy. Save that for the real thing," he shakes his head around.

"Sorry," I put my fists back up, but Pop stops me.

"You ain't focusin', Tommy," his gruff voice makes me turn around, "Somethin's botherin' you.'

Old Pop woulda hit me upside my head and told me to get over it. New Pop is standing there all expectant, waiting for me to tell him what's wrong. I think about it for a second. I wanna play it off, but maybe I gotta say something. I don't want it popping in my head while I'm fighting tomorrow.

"I'm gonna propose to Nicole." His eyes get all wide. "Right after I win."

Pop nods. "That's good, son. She's a good girl." His eyes flicker to Brendan.

I know he's wondering if Brendan knows. I hope his feelings ain't hurt that I told my brother before I told him.

"You gotta ring?"

I nod. Brendan speaks up though, "It's nice Pop. You have to see it."

"I'll see it Monday," Pop says confidently, "when Nicole's wearin' it."

He winks at me. I smile a little bit. It's nice that Pop's so sure Nicole's gonna say yes.

"It isn't time to think about that, though," Brendan slaps me upside the head lightly. "You want her to say yes? Win this damn thing." I know he's teasing, but it works. I start focusing again.

We train hard for a coupla hours. I shower before we head back up. I don't wanna go back up to Nicole smelling like sweat. I know the other fighters are all out partying, but I just wanna spend the night with my girl. We ain't gonna be together too much the next coupla days. I gotta use tonight to try and get her to stop worrying so damn much.

But when we get back to my hotel room and answer the door, it don't look like my girl's worrying at all. Takes me all of a second to realize she's drunk off her ass.

Her and Tess got this loud music blasting all over the room. Little minibar bottles are laying all over the table in the room. Reminds me of Pop last year, 'cept instead of cussing and yelling, my girl's dancing real crazy. She's rolling her hips around in circles while Tess just keeps on laughing. I think she's a little gone too, but nothing like Nicole.

I ain't even seen Nicole have more than a coupla beers. Looks like she's drinking harder than that tonight.

I can hear Brendan start to laugh next to me. I guess it's kinda funny but I ain't laughing.

I don't like seeing her like this at all, 'specially since I know what's bothering her. She ain't getting drunk for the fun of it, she's getting drunk to distract herself.

I wanna get her alone and snap her outta her funk so I start walking towards her. I get there just in time for her to turn around too fast. She looks real excited to see me, but then starts spinning over, like she can't control her own feet. She goes down hard, but I make sure she hits my arms and not the floor. She curls into my chest like a baby, clutching at my shirt. I know she'd be embarrassed if she ever saw what she looked like right now. Her hair is coming out of its pretty style and sticking up all over her head. She's burrowing into me, with this huge, shit-eating grin on her face. "You showered," she inhales real deep and presses her face into my t-shirt.

"Jesus," Pop looks at her hard, torn somewhere between wanting to laugh and looking worried.

I shift her in my arms. Tess is laughing a little bit, leaning sideways in her seat. Looks like Brendan and I both gotta babysit tonight. I feel a little better 'bout my girl being drunk since Brendan's is too. And I guess it ain't like my family's in any position to judge.

"I'm gonna sober her up," I tell my brother. He laughs a little bit but nods.

"Make sure she gets some water," Pop tells me. He would know, I guess. I thank him and move a little awkwardly through the door to my room. Nicole ain't heavy, but she's wiggling around in my arms like a fish. I make it to the bed and start putting her down, but she drags me flat on top of her. I'm afraid for a second that I'm gonna crush her, but she just starts giggling and playing with the bottom of my shirt. "Nicole, what's got into you?" I pry her arms off and lay her down. She keeps right on giggling. "A lot of liquor," she slurs it out and flops her head back on the pillow. Her hair goes flying everywhere. I smooth it back the best I can.

"Kinda figured that," it's kinda funny, watching her so outta her element. If her work folks saw her now, they wouldn't believe it. "Didn't think you was a partier," I say.

All the sudden her face starts scrunching up, like she's gonna cry or something. She tries to sit up but I hold her down. Don't need her falling over again.

"I'm not," she grabs my hand real hard. I let her hold it. Her fingers are playing with mine, tracing the calluses. "It's just…" she trails off, her eyes all shiny.

I pull her up into me, dragging her into my lap. "You know, it ain't good to drink away your problems, sweetheart. I should know." I did the whole pill popping, drinking thing and it didn't do a damn thing but make me sick in the morning. Better to deal with your shit 'stead of tryna push it away.

She throws her arms around my neck and starts running her hands down my face. She looks real hard at me, like she's tryna memorize what I look like.

"You're going to be all beat up tomorrow," she says real sad. I try and cheer her up.

"Wait till you see what the other guy's gonna look like," I smile at her. Her face twitches like she wants to laugh, but she pulls it together.

"You know I love you, right?" she sounds so quiet. I wonder what's really bothering her.

I know I ain't the best with saying how I feel, but she's gotta know. She's got me wrapped 'round her finger.

I don't like seeing her this way. Reminds me of me on a bad day. Reminds me of Pop.

"Yeah, Nicole," I hold her as close as I can, running my hands down her back the way I know she likes. She wraps her legs around my waist and leans her head right against mine. I kiss her ear, then her cheek.

"Do you-"

I know she's gonna ask if I love her. I don't wanna hear that. The words ain't gonna be enough now, so I press my mouth against hers, kissing her question away.

I hold her face between my hands, kissing her with everything I've got in me. She sighs against my lips, twirls her fingers in my hair.

"Let me take care of you for a change," I whisper in her ear and she shivers against me. She nods slowly, melting against my body. She don't complain when I help her undress and carry her to the shower. I know I just had one, but I get the water nice and hot and climb in with her. She leans against me the whole time, like if I move she won't be able to hold herself up. I wash out her hair, soap her body up, enjoying the little happy sighs she makes when I touch her.

Feels good to just take care of her. Makes me feel needed.

While she's drying off I go to her suitcase for her pajamas but she stops me, telling me she wants to sleep in one of my shirts. I smile at that. She looks great in lingerie, but ain't nothing as perfect as her laying around in one of my old t-shirts, her long legs sticking outta the bottom.

She crawls into bed and turns around, looking expectantly at me. I know she ain't gonna sleep if I ain't there. I happily follow her, pressing her tight to my side.

"Don't worry 'bout me, sweetheart," I tell her, running my fingers through her damp curly hair. She smells good, but not in that sugary way a lot of women smell like. There's some sensual about it, something that only she can pull off.

"I always worry about you, baby," she admits. I kiss her.

"On Sunday, it'll be over. And we'll be rich." I haven't told her 'bout my plans for the money yet. Her eyes widen, like she ain't even thought about it. If she had, she woulda seen it as my money, not hers. She ain't the gold digging type. But she oughta know that everything I got belongs to her too. That's the way I want it.

"I don't need money. I just want you," she looks up at me, like she's willing me to understand.

I can't think of nothing to say back. This is a conversation we should have when she's sober, when I'm not getting ready to fight.

I gotta tell her all this, all my plans, all the things I want for us.

She might not need money, but I want it. I don't wanna half ass this. We ain't gonna be like Pop and Ma, with me stewing away about all the shit in life I wanted but ain't gone for, and her tip toeing around me, trying to make ends meet. If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right.

She starts falling asleep against me, worn out from all the shit she got into with Tess.

I'm a little relieved that I ain't gotta tell her all that right now. Gives me time to think about what I really wanna say. Still though, I don't want her going to sleep thinking that I don't take us seriously, or that she's just some arm candy I keep around for the hell of it.

"You've got me, Nicole," I whisper in her ear as she drifts off. She smiles a little and stretches out against me. I wrap her up tight in my arms and listen to her breathing.

I know I should be thinking about the fights, going over strategies in my head, but I can't focus my mind on anything but the woman next to me.

If ever there was something to motivate me to fight harder than I ever have before, it's her.

I'm gonna have to tell her that soon.

I fall asleep staring across the room at my suitcase and thinking about the ring I bought her.

It's gonna be a long coupla days until Sunday.

I'll tell her everything then.

* * *

**All of your feedback has been so lovely. I've noticed a sudden surge in Warrior stories ever since The Dark Knight Rises came out. I think that Tom Hardy is finally experiencing his career breakout. If you've only ever seen Warrior, get on watching the rest of his filmography! ****  
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**And thank you for your continued support! Please continue to let me know what you think.  
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	15. Chapter 15

With all my thoughts 'bout Nicole tumbling around and buzzing in my mind it's nice to just be in the ring. Alotta folks are always asking me what it's like fighting, what makes me so good.

Ain't nothing to it. It's as easy as breathing, been doing it my whole life.

When it's just me and some guy in there, the only thing I'm thinking about it laying him out.

The first kid goes down easy, like I knew he would. I almost feel bad, but they say he'll be ok. He's young enough to take the hit.

Next guy up is Rampage Jackson. I ain't worried 'bout him neither. I have some fun with him in the ring. He's good enough to make me haveta work for it. He's a tough sonuvabitch and it takes a coupla rounds to get him down for good. He managed to draw blood. I figure Nicole is probably freaking out about it, but there's something 'bout blood that makes me wanna fight harder. I wipe it off, barrel outta my corner and take him down. I don't feel tired or nothin' when it's done, even though I know I had to have been wailing on him hard in the end.

I glance through the cage and see my girl standing there, smiling real hard at me. She's good about not getting too girly on me when the cameras are out. She keeps her composure all through the interviews, but the minute it's just me and her, something snaps.

I let her baby me. It makes her feel better and it ain't like no one can see it besides her and me. Something about wiping me up after fights calms her down. It gives me alone time with her, so I ain't complaining.

While she cleans out my tiny cuts, she sits in my lap and asks questions. Guess it's a habit she picked up from being a journalist. She asks about the next fight, what I'm planning on doing.

I explain it to her without getting too technical. It's Rua up next. I know she's seen him swaggering through here like he owns the place, but I ain't worried. I've been watching him and I got his game down. Jiu-Jitsu might look pretty, but it ain't gonna do much against me.

She asks me what I wanna do when Sparta is over. I don't wanna give away too much, but I tell her I'm thinking 'bout moving out to Bristol near her. I already looked at some houses out there, tryna picture what she might like. I found one that I can see us in—an old colonial style house with a big yard. I could build a playground out there for our kids, maybe put in a pool.

We could play sports and have barbeques. The inside is pretty as them houses in magazines.

I bet Nicole could decorate it real nice. I don't say nothing 'bout it though. I want her to see it first before I go making serious plans.

She tries not to get too excited when I talk about moving, but I see it written all over her face.

I know she's thinking 'bout our future as much as I am. It'll be nice to get all this shit out in the open at the end of this weekend. But I gotta keep my eyes on the prize for now.

Rua goes down the way I thought he would. I don't give him a chance to get fancy on me, just explode outta my corner and start beating on him. He looks hella surprised when I get him around the waist and slam him down. I lay a hurting on him that's been more than enough to knock guys out in the past. When he makes it to the second round, I gotta admit he earns a bit of respect from me.

But it don't matter 'cause he's swaying and rocking like he's dizzy. It ain't nothing to swing out and kick him. He falls hard, like a giant tree, planking face first to the mat. Three down.

I spend the night looking at old tapes of Jon Jones, refreshing my memory. The kid is good, a rising star, but I ain't gonna let him beat me. Bones is like a snake, slithering his way around, spinning and kicking like he's tryna be Bruce Lee.

I ain't gonna beat him with my wrestling experience. We're pretty well-matched. And he's too fast for me to catch off guard like Rua or Jackson. So I gotta tire him out, wait for an opening.

It might mean taking a coupla hits.

I look down at Nicole. She's asleep in the bed a coupla feet away from me, looking real small and peaceful curled up in the blankets. I wonder if I should wake her up, maybe warn her that I might be taking a little bit of damage tomorrow.

I decide not to. She might as well get a good night's sleep before her worrying starts.

I watch her stretch out in her sleep. I hope she's having a good dream. I wanna crawl into bed next to her, but I ain't gonna sleep tonight. I never can before a big fight. It ain't that I'm nervous, more like excited. I can't relax until it's over.

I spend the rest of the night going over the fight, making sure Nicole's still sleeping.

After I win tomorrow, I'm gonna have to go out with her. We ain't never had a chance to do that.

I ain't never been a party type of person, but it won't hurt to have one night of it. It's been a while since I've had something to celebrate anyway.

I sneak over to my suitcase and pull out the ring, looking at it. I shouldn't be thinking about it right now, but in 24 hours, I'm gonna propose. It can't hurt to think about what I'm gonna say.

I better follow Brendan's advice, get on my right knee, tell her how much I love her and need her and wanna be with her.

If I ever gotta sound like one of them sappy poets, it's when I'm asking Nicole to be my wife.

The more I think about it, the more nervous I get. I put the box back in my suitcase. I don't think about it again 'til after my fight.

Jones is the first real challenge I've had in a while. It's fun, dancing around with him. It's nice to haveta try. I can hear the crowd in the background. It all sounds like white noise, like one long note. It's like music, like the Beethoven Brendan uses. Calms me down, keeps me focused.

We go down on the mat together so many times I lose count. He's hard to pin and he sure as fuck ain't gonna be able to hold me down. So I wait for my opening, play with him a little.

I can tell he thinks he's got me a coupla times, but he ain't even close.

I see my chance and I take it. A few hard hits and one knee to the chest and he falls to the mat.

The crowd starts screaming. I won.

It don't start sinking in 'til Brendan jumps over the cage and nearly lands right on top of me. He's grabbing me up in a hug, yelling and grinning. I'm smiling right along with him. I start glancing around, looking for the people that mean the most to me.

I see Pop first. He's walking real slow. Surprises the hell outta me when I see he's crying.

I glance over at Brendan and he nods at me. Together, we lift our dad into the ring and prop him up between us. I know flashes are going off like crazy and there are gonna be half a million pictures of this by tomorrow, but I don't care. I pull my family into a hug, right there in front of everyone. Guess I'm feeling emotional right now.

I get my belt and take all the pictures I know I'm supposed to. But the minute I step outta that cage, I start looking for my girl. I see her, standing nexta Tess, smiling and waving at me.

I know she's waiting, the way she always does, for the cameras to go away, but I ain't having that. I reach out and yank her to my side. She flies into me, laughing.

I sling my belt over one arm and her under my other and walk off down the tunnel with my family.

The rest of the night is like a blur of color and sounds. I'm signing autographs every five feet, answering the same questions a million times and I'm insanely happy 'bout it. Maybe it's 'cause Nicole's there holding my hand or maybe it's 'cause Pop looks happier than I've ever seen him or 'cause Tess and I are getting along or 'cause Brendan keeps making jokes, but life seems pretty much perfect.

And when Nicole starts throwing me those looks, licking her lips and staring with them dark bedroom eyes, my night gets even better.

Takes a lot of self-control to get back to the hotel room without jumping her bones. She keeps on kissing me, grabbing at me, running those hands of hers in places I know she wouldn't normally be touching in public.

I ain't complaining, but I ain't gonna be able to hold off much longer either.

We get back to the room and I make some excuse to go into the bathroom so I can grab the ring. I look at myself for a while in the mirror, tryna calm myself down. I wanna ask her right now while I'm the happiest I've ever been. I start thinking about just walking out and dropping on my right knee, but that don't seem right.

Instead, I peel my clothes off, hide the ring in them and walk back out to her. I slip the ring under my shirt near the bedside table so it's there when I need it.

She's sitting on our bed, looking so unbelievably sexy with my belt on her lap that I forget all about being nervous.

I don't waste time with foreplay. The last few hours have been foreplay anyway. Her clothes hit the ground, I lift her into my arms, push her against the wall and in a second I'm inside of her.

I can't help myself. I'm going too fast, faster than I wanted to take it tonight. But I can't stop. She's got all of herself wrapped around me tight, clutching at me. She's panting, moaning, whispering my name. I feel her fall apart against me and start backing up, carrying her to the bed.

She falls down on top of me and I'm happy to let her take the lead. She braces her hands on my chest, lifting that gorgeous body of hers up and letting it fall, over and over again 'til I think I might lose my mind. I flip her over and look at her. Her lips are parted, her hair's all wild and splayed out everywhere and she's got this flush to her cheeks. Her eyes look right up into mine and she smiles. She looks like everything I've ever wanted. I tell her so.

"Oh, Tommy," she runs her hands down my back. Her whole body shudders again as I give one last thrust and this time, I'm quick to follow her. I collapse on top of her, every muscle relaxed.

We lay quietly for a while. I'm ready for her again, but I give her a break. She's still panting, but she looks real happy. Might be a good time for that talk.

"I can buy a place in Bristol," I tell her. She rolls over and looks at me, her lips still pulled back in that big, bright smile of hers.

"You could buy the whole block," her laugh tinkles out, making me grin. I'm glad she's as happy as I am.

"What kinda house do you like?" It's the first time I ever mentioned I've been thinking about a house for the two of us. I feel my face start to heat up again. I ain't even asked the real question, and I'm already blushing. This ain't good.

"I get input?" she keeps on smiling, gently tickling me. "Well, you're gonna live there." It ain't really a question. I hope she ain't offended, like I'm tryna control her.

But she just giggles and teases me. "Are you gonna be there too?"

I like this side of her. She makes me laugh, makes me relax.

"I better be," I tease right back, "I don't wanna be your sugar daddy."

It sounds silly coming outta my mouth but it has the effect I wanted it to. She bursts out laughing, rolling closer to me until her mouth's right near my ear.

"Are you saying you're not sweet?" she whispers seductively.

"I can be plenty sweet." She's distracted me again. I reach out to stroke her and the response is instantaneous. She moans and arches into me.

"In that case," her voice is shaky, "I want an old-fashioned house. A colonial with a porch."

I feel my heart start thumping hard. Great minds must think alike. "Anythin' else?"

I start moving my fingers and her hands fly to my skin, pressing hard anywhere they can reach.

"And big windows," she gasps, "and a yard."

"How big?" I'm playing with her now, and she's playing along. Her hands drag down my chest. "Huge," she grasps me.

My mind goes fuzzy for a second but I pull it together. "Need kids for a big house."

I try to say it casual, just in case she don't like the idea. But her head snaps up and she looks at me really hard. "Kids are a lifetime commitment," she tells me seriously.

I move my hands up until they're at the side of her face and pin her with my most serious look. She holds my gaze, waiting for me to say something. I kiss her, as slow as I can, until she starts to relax against me.

"Sounds good to me," I tell her. I've never meant anything more in my life.

She screams as I plunge back inside of her again. We keep right on going like we ain't never gonna get tired, 'til I start losing track of time.

By the time we're done, she's completely worn out and limp in my arms. She starts falling asleep, but I'm wide awake, turning the words over in my head.

I love her. I need her. I wanna be with her forever. Marry me. Marry me. Marry me.

Before I can think too much about it, I reach down and pull the ring outta its tiny black box.

The band's so small I could only get it over my pinky, but it's perfect for her. I spin the cool metal in my hands, repeating the question in my head.

Nicole stirs against me and I look down at her. She's sleeping. I start thinking that maybe if I could just see the ring on her finger, I might be less nervous 'bout what I'm gonna do.

Slowly, I lower it over her left ring finger, just so I can have a peek, and then I'll pull it off and ask proper. I don't count on her rolling over, her big brown eyes wide with shock.

"Tommy, what is this?" she holds up her trembling hand.

I feel like my heart's in my throat. I can't remember anything I practiced. "You know what it is." It's a stupid answer and it earns her sharp response. She wants me to ask properly.

She deserves it. I take a deep breath and regrow a pair of balls. I can't fuck this up. I pull the covers back and start to stand up. Her eyes follow me.

"I had a whole speech. Practiced it with Brendan and everythin'," I lower myself to the ground, careful to kneel on my right knee like my brother told me.

"So tell me," she sits up too and faces me straight on. I notice she's breathing hard. She's as nervous as I am. It calms me down.

"It was somethin' about lovin' you and bein' really happy when I'm with you and wantin' to be with you forever."

I swallow. I gotta do this right. She's hanging on my every word.

"I was plannin' on wearin' clothes when I did it," I admit bashfully. She starts giggling, the tension broken.

"I like you better without clothes," she says, her eyes raking over me hungrily. My ego flares up a little bit.

"I don't think I was ever really happy 'til I met you. And now, I'm only really happy when you're around. And I like it," I break off and take another deep breath. "I know I'm a pain in the ass sometimes, and I'm grumpy and can be a jerk…"

I stop. I'm making too good an argument for her _not _to have me. I try again.

"For some reason, you've hung in there with me for a year now."

I think of us last year, the place I was in. I don't ever wanna be like that again.

"I was hopin' you might hang in there with me for the rest of our lives." I slip the ring off her finger and hold it up, "Nicole, will you marry me?"

She starts trembling all over, looking wildly from my face back to the ring and back again. She opens her mouth and I feel my stomach start to drop. This is the most nervous I've ever been, more than being in the ring, more than being at war. I can beat the shit outta giant men for a living, but something about the woman in fronta me has me scared shitless.

"Tommy, when did you get this?" I wasn't expecting her to ask me a question.

"Right after my birthday," I answer her, even though I'm confused as hell.

She starts crying outta the blue, just bursts into tears. It ain't the reaction I was expecting at all. I'm panicked all in a second, partly 'cause she ain't saying yes, and partly 'cause I got no idea why she's blubbering all the sudden. She looks like something hurt her. She's getting more hysterical by the second.

I'm thinking she might say no. Even though I wasn't ever sure she was gonna say yes, I didn't prepare for the chance of her saying no. Now all the options are flying through my head. Does she mean, "no, not right now" or is it the worst kinda no, the kind where she breaks it off? I can't let that happen. Even if she don't wanna marry me, there's no way I'm gonna be cool with her just walking away. I gotta convince her somehow to stay, to give me some more time. I lower the ring, thinking that I'll get up, pull her into me. I can apologize, calm her down, rub those tears away, get her to tell me what's wrong.

If it makes her stop crying, I'll put the ring away right now and won't bring it out again. I could get over that blow to my ego if it keeps her with me.

"Nicole," I say her name and try to rush to her, but she pushes me back with surprising strength. It catches me off guard, makes me feel powerless. She never pushes me away, never. But her hand lingers on my chest, cool against my burning skin. She looks at me, the tears flowing, taking me in from head to toe. I feel nervous under her glance, but I hold still, tryna figure out what's wrong. I need her to say something, anything. Just give me an answer.

"Yes," she blurts it out all the sudden. Surprises the hell outta me.

"Yes, you'll marry me?" I say real slow. I know Nicole better than I know any other woman on Earth, and she's still hard as fuck to read. Wonder if it's ever gonna be easy.

She starts nodding. "I want to marry you," she throws herself forward and into my arms. I catch her, my heart thumping in my chest. My ears are buzzing and I feel ready to pass out. I'm still tryna get a handle on what just happened.

"I want to marry you," she repeats, louder this time. Her voice has stopped wobbling around.

"Then why're you cryin'?"

She starts smiling. "I thought you were never going to ask."

It's like a weight falls off me. She's been thinking about it as much as I have.

I start laughing at the irony. "Had to get the balls to do it first." I kiss her and she melts into me.

"Do you want your ring?" I almost forgot it was still in my hand. It's hot now, but it slides right over her finger. We both stare at it.

She said yes. It keeps ringing 'round in my head. She's kissing me, pulling me on top of her. It feels fantastic, but I'm still dizzy.

She said yes. We're gonna get married. We're gonna move in together. We're gonna have kids, and a house and a life…

I get to spend the rest of my life with the best woman I've ever met. She's gonna be the first person I see when I wake up, gonna be there everyday smiling and laughing and picking me up when I feel low. I'm the only one who's gonna be touching her, holding her, making love to her at night. I'm not gonna have to spend my days wallowing around waiting to see her, 'cause she's gonna be there, in our house for the rest of our lives.

I think 'bout the simple shit we're always doing, like cooking and watching TV and going to football games. I think about the way that she's always so sure everything's gonna work out, even when I'm panicking, thinking it's all going to hell. I think about her hands in my hair, the way it feels when she's leaning up against me in the shower, how she just crawls into my lap whenever we're just lounging around, like she's meant to be there. I think 'bout her smooth dark skin, them round brown eyes, her thick black curls, that smile of hers. She's gorgeous, inside and out and now she's officially mine.

I could ride this high forever.

And since she said yes, it looks like I'll get the chance to.

I fall asleep on the best night of my life with every nerve tingling in pleasure and her whispers of "I love you" echoing in my ears.

* * *

**So, quite a few of you have been asking for Tommy's perspective on the wedding and his son being born. Hang in there folks, I'm working on it right now. Thank you for all of your reviews and messages and encouragement. And a special thanks as always to my beta, Tallulah, who like to make sure that everything is perfect. ****  
**

**Please continue to let me know what you think.  
**


	16. Chapter 16

"Baby," my wife's voice comes floating out of our hotel bedroom.

I'm standing in the living room of our honeymoon suite, looking out the window. I've been here for a while, slipped outta bed, leaving behind the gift I got for Nicole. I wanted her to have a minute by herself to look at it.

It's quiet out here, peaceful. It's still dark outside. The sky is that inky navy color I love. Matches the flowers we had at our wedding.

Nicole said they're called peonies. I had them in the buttonhole of my tux, same as Brendan and Nicole's brothers. Nicole had 'em in her bouquet along with white roses. The rest of her bridesmaids, a buncha cousins and friends I didn't meet 'til we started planning our wedding, were all decked out in silver dresses. They were carrying peonies too.

Normally I don't give a shit about things like flowers, but I picked those out. All I had to do was smell 'em to know. They used to be the flowers Ma loved. Reminded me of her right off the bat. We had 'em all over the house, the only pretty thing we owned after we ran. Ma loved to decorate, but peonies were all we could afford. Even after they died, she used to flip 'em upside down and dry 'em out. They still looked pretty, even with the color gone.

Ma woulda liked to help out with planning Nicole and my wedding, woulda been proud of me for getting married in a church. Never saw myself doing that, going along with all those fruity bells and whistles. But I didn't mind doing it for Nicole. I maybe even liked some of it.

Still, she hadta work pretty hard sometimes, convincing me to go to cake tastings and fabric stores. It wasn't that I didn't wanna do it, but she's got the good tastes. I wanted her to have the wedding she wanted. I figured women dream of that their whole lives, have it planned right outta high school. Not Nicole. She knew just about as much as I did. Said she always thought more about the man she wanted to marry than the actual wedding.

Still can't believe that man is me. The new ring on my finger keeps reminding me though.

I spin it around, thinking 'bout what a pain in the ass it was, planning this thing. If it was upta me, we woulda ran out that week I proposed, tied the knot somewhere where only Pop and Brendan and her family woulda seen us. I didn't need cake or flowers or any of that shallow shit. I just need Nicole.

But I wasn't gonna do that to her, take away the white wedding she deserved. So I went with her while we hauled around, picking shit out.

It took a coupla months of wading through fabric stores and flower shops and looking at ribbons and going to fittings and listening to everybody's opinions on everything under the sun, but we got married last week, April 12th, in a church in Bristol.

It was a big, old-fashioned kind of church. The whole thing, all those fancy marble statues and altars and pews, was covered in navy and silver, me and Nicole's favorite colors. The light was streaming in through huge stained glass windows, making everything look like something outta painting. I didn't think it was gonna look anything as nice as that, even with saleswomen going on and on about how "magical" the whole thing was gonna be.

Guess they made me eat my words 'cause I had a pretty good time standing up at the front of the church with my brother looking on. He asked me if I was ready for what was 'bout to happen. Didn't take any thought at all 'fore I nodded.

Some guys told me they got cold feet, started second guessing on their wedding day.

I was scared it was gonna happen to me. But the only thing I felt was happiness.

I didn't care that I had to wear a tux, didn't care that people were staring at me, that I was gonna haveta rub elbows with people I didn't know.

From the minute the piano began and I saw Nicole coming down the aisle, that's all I cared about.

Nicole's huge family, all her cousins and friends and aunts and uncles and grandparents and coworkers, were packed on her side and trickling over to mine. Didn't have too much as far as family on my side. Brendan was standing up next to me, and Pop was sitting out with Tess and the girls in the audience. But my whole regiment showed up, Drew and Chris and all the boys, and Pilar and the kids came.

It didn't matter too much to me that I didn't have as many people come as Nicole. I ain't got that many close friends, but the ones I have mean a lot to me. I'd rather have people I care about there, than people who are just there to eat the free food and drink all the booze. But all those people, the ones I love and the ones I ain't even met yet, whipped their heads 'round to the back when Nicole came in on her dad's arm.

Her dress was white of course, and long, one of them princess looking gowns with no straps and a pretty skirt. She had these tiny little beads sewn in at the top in these little intricate patterns. My favorite part though, was a big navy blue ribbon and bow around her waist. I always thought Nicole was too interesting for just white. Her dress matched the ring I got her.

I almost locked my knees and passed out waiting for her to get down the aisle. Barely heard a thing the priest was saying, I was so busy looking at her. Her dark hair was piled all on top of her head and she had a veil set up there, held in by a pretty silver and navy hair thing. Nearly stopped breathing, just staring at her. She gripped my hands real hard the whole time, like she was tryna anchor herself down. I don't think she stopped smiling for a second.

We said the traditional wedding vows, them ones you hear in movies 'bout for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. I ain't exactly Shakespeare, and she knows it. Took enough effort to not stumble through the regular ones and besides, I think they said it best. Still, my voice shook a little bit when I started saying the words.

"I, Thomas Conlon," sounded weird hearing my full name. Ain't no one on Earth that calls me Thomas. "Take you, Nicole Ryan, to be my lawfully wedded wife…"

It sounded real technical, like a business merger. But I guess, in way, it kinda was. I'm giving up being just me, and she's giving up being just her, so we can be a couple. "To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, so long as we both shall live." It was easy saying them. We've been through most of that already and we weren't even married then.

Nicole started off saying the words perfectly, the way she says everything. I don't think anyone noticed the tears in her eyes 'cept me. But when she got to the "for better or for worse" part, her voice wobbled a little bit. But the tears she was crying were her happy ones, the tears I first saw the night I proposed.

She don't bring 'em out a lot, only when I get sappy. I squeezed her hand tighter, smiled at her, let her know that I was as happy hearing them words coming outta her mouth as she was hearing me say 'em.

I had a shit eating grin on the whole damn time. I know that friend of hers, Gavin, has got pictures and video of it somewhere. By the time we got to the reception it had already leaked online that UFC star Tommy Conlon wed ESPN reporter Nicole Ryan. I didn't give a shit. Let 'em all know she's officially mine forever. I'm the happiest I've ever been.

I probably shouldn't have kissed her that hard in a church with all our family watching, probably shoulda paid more attention to how the prime rib tasted, or how the champagne was, or if the cake looked the way we thought it would. I probably shoulda rubbed shoulders more with the guests, thanked more people for coming out. It woulda been classier, maybe, if we hadn't shoved the cake into each other's faces and then kissed it off. But I didn't hear Nicole complaining, and that's all that matters.

She let her hair down at the reception, let those curls I love go wild as we danced. Made me nervous, having to slow dance in fronta everyone, but the minute she wound her arms around my neck I stopped thinking so much. Her dress was cool and smooth as silk, hugging those curves of hers, rippling around as she moved. She let me pick the song. Took a helluva long time. I was afraid she wasn't gonna like it. She's an R&B kinda woman, likes those slow jams and that baby making music. But she danced with me to Incubus' _Dig _like she was born to do it.

I know she was listening hard to the words. The first time I told her it was the song I wanted, she pulled it right up on the computer. It was embarrassing as hell, sitting there with her, listening to all them sappy words that remind me of her.

The words ain't exactly traditional. Tess told me it was depressing as shit. But she don't get it, didn't live my life. The song's 'bout redemption. And I ain't never had that 'til I met Nicole. All them words 'bout forgiveness and healing, that's what Nicole is to me. She's the only thing that makes me feel better when I have a flashback or a fight with my family or start thinking 'bout the shit that I've seen. I wanted her to know that, so I picked a song that said it outright.

She almost started crying right then and there, but instead, she just dove into my arms and kissed me.

She packs a lot of force for a woman, knocked me right on my ass.

Her brothers came in and saw her crying and straddling me on the floor. That was a hard one to explain.

I start smiling thinking about it, playing the words over in my head, thinking 'bout my wife in my arms.

_If I turn into another, dig me up from under what is covering the better part of me.  
Sing this song. Remind me that we'll always have each other, when everything else is gone.  
Oh each other, when everything else is gone…_

The lyrics are sappy, girly maybe, but it's how I feel. And maybe I wasn't comfortable saying it in fronta everyone, but I could let someone else sing it.

Could barely hear the song, the blood was pounding in my ears so hard. Besides, Nicole just kept leaning up and whispering so soft that only I could hear her, "I love you, Tommy, I love you."

Might be the nicest thing I'll ever hear.

"Baby?" she says again. Her voice is still husky and sleepy. I know she woke up looking for me. I turn around and she's standing there, wrapped up in a white silk robe that was a bridal gift.

She got piles of lingerie for our wedding. Seems like she brought a whole suitcase of it.

Mighta been a waste, considering it's been 12 hours since either of us had on any clothes.

We've been going almost non-stop since I carried her over the threshold to our house a few days ago.

It was convenient that we didn't fly out to our honeymoon right away, 'cause I finally got to wine and dine my wife's socks off, like I promised all those months ago.

I figured the night to try my hand at being all romantic is my wedding night, so I put rose petals around our house and up the stairs to our bedroom. I put a little surprise for her in every room. Kitchen had champagne, living room had chocolate covered strawberries, bedroom had candles. The catch was that she had to take something off to get her present. First it was the veil, then that gorgeous flowy dress.

Nearly killed myself chasing her up the stairs when I gotta look at what she had on underneath.

It was white, from head to toe, almost glowing against her coppery skin. Had one of them corset things on, pushing her breasts up, and barely there lace panties and garters attached with them sexy clip things. I had caught a peek at it at our reception, when I tossed the more traditional garter she had on for the wedding. Ain't nothing prim and proper 'bout what she was wearing for our wedding night, thank God.

I caught her up in the bedroom, made her lay down on the bed and drink champagne while I went around lighting all them candles. I liked teasing her, liked those lustful, dark looks she was shooting me, liked watching her eat all slow and sexy.

Musta kissed every inch of her that night. She was practically shaking by the time I got around to pulling my pants off. She nearly ripped the buttons off my shirt, tryna get 'em undone as fast as she could. Her hands ripped at my belt buckle, the new platinum band on her finger sitting next to the engagement ring. She had my pants off and on the floor 'fore I even knew what was happening, but when I went to take my dress shirt and tie off she stopped me.

"Leave it on," she grabbed the tie, running her hand up to the top and then to my face. Didn't know her voice could get that husky, or that her bossin' me around could turn me on so much.

"Yes, Mrs. Conlon," I reached down for her and she nearly came apart right there. She wrapped her legs 'round my waist and with one hand 'round my neck and the other jerking my silver tie down, she pulled me into her.

Took a lot of effort to go slow, to tease her right to the edge and then stop before she fell over.

I wanted it to last, wanted her to feel every second of it, every sensation, every inch. She kept my face real close to hers, so our foreheads were touching, so she could kiss me whenever she wanted, as deeply as she wanted. I could hear her better that way, hear her panting that she loved me, moaning my name.

"I love you, Nicole Conlon," I told her. "I love you, my wife."

Me saying that was all it took. She clenched around me tight, screaming, practically crying.

I ain't never seen her fall apart like that, but it's been my goal to make it happen again and again, for the last few days. So far, I'm succeeding.

Didn't think the sex could get any better than it already was, but there's something 'bout it—something 'bout holding her and knowing for sure I'm the only one who ever will, that kicks it up that much more.

She's like a goddess, sliding into the shower with me, or waking me up in the middle of the night or pulling me aside while we're out and about. She can't get enough, and I'm happy to help her out. It ain't like I'm not doing the exact same thing to her.

Right now, she's holding what I left her: that little black leather book Brendan gave me.

Took me a while to get it ready for her, 'specially 'cause I wanted to write down our wedding. All the pages are filled up now with my messy handwriting. I want my wife to have it, to read it. She's the main subject in it anyway.

"Mornin', sweetheart," I smile at her. It's nice, her being the first thing I see every morning.

"Good morning," she walks toward me naked, her bare feet making no sound on the floor.

I wanna touch her, run my hands over every inch of her smooth skin.

"I got your gift," she tells me. She sets the book down on a side table and stretches her arms out toward me. I smile at her, reach for her. She takes my hand, the new rings on our fingers touching. We got matching bands now. It's a new feeling, having it on, but I like it.

I'm only gonna ever take it off for fights.

"Did you read it?" I ask her, kissing her temple. She nods, clutching at me. I can tell she's getting emotional by how hard she's breathing. Happens every time she's 'bout to cry.

I do what I always do to calm her down, rub circles along her back and pull her into my chest. She starts to calm down a little, but she leaves a tiny trail of tears on my bare chest. Took me a while to realize Nicole cries when she's real happy. I like them tears better than her sad ones.

"Thank you," she whispers into my chest. I know she wants to talk 'bout all those corny things I wrote about her, but she ain't gonna put me through that.

She knows I ain't no good at saying those things. That's why I gave her my book.

Now she's got it down in writing, how much she means to me.

I kiss her, tasting her minty, sweet mouth, taking my time. She sighs against my lips and massages my scalp.

"What are you doing out here?" she asks me, curling up against me. Her hair is all sleep mussed, but she looks damn sexy. I wanna carry her back into our bedroom, but I already got plans for this morning. It'll have to wait a coupla minutes.

"I want you to see somethin', sweetheart," I kiss her neck. She's still warm from bed. She wraps her arms around my neck and I pull her into my arms. I start carrying her to the balcony.

"Tommy," she laughs as I step outside. The cool morning air swirls in between the little bit of space between our bodies. "Did you forget that you're naked?"

I look down, "Nah." Kinda hard to forget when she's pressed right up against me.

She laughs harder. "No one's up yet, and even if they are, they can't see us from here."

I made damn sure of that when I booked the hotel for our wedding. I want it to just be me and my wife.

I walk us over to a deck chair and sit us down. She relaxes in my lap, melts into me. Always wanted to watch a sunrise with Nicole. The sun is just starting to come up over Venice. The canals below us are emerald green, deeper than the color of our lawn back in Bristol. Those boat things, the gondolas, are all tied up and waiting, bobbing like corks. I'm gonna take Nicole on one of those rides later. I know she'll want to get the camera, to go see everything. I'm looking forward to doing it with her.

The sky is colored pink and orange, almost coral. It's staining my wife's robe a light pinkish color. Nicole's eyes are as round as saucers watching it. Her smooth legs are twisted up around mine, but I still wanna be closer to her.

"You like it, Mrs. Conlon?" I pull her harder against me. She smiles when I call her that.

I'm starting to figure out that calling her my last name is the most effective form of foreplay I coulda ever come up with, for both of us.

She spins around in my lap 'til she's straddling me. I push my hands under her robe, running 'em across her thighs. She shudders and leans into me, resting her forehead against mine.

"Want to go sightseeing?" I ask her quietly.

"In a minute," she gets that mischievous look in her eye. "There's something I want to do more first." She don't waste any more time with words, just reaches down between us and grasps me. I'm more than ready for her.

It ain't slow or dignified, 'specially since we're in a deck chair, but that don't mean it ain't fantastic. I turn her around so we can both still see the sunrise. She reaches back, wraps her arm around my neck as I hold her steady 'round her waist. I'm tryna be gentle, but she don't want that. She arches her back, thrusting herself backwards into me. I know what she wants and I'm happy to give it to her.

She starts making noise, saying my name over and over and over again. Nothing I love more than hearing her say my name like that, all husky and breathy, like it's the only word she can remember.

I lean forward 'til I'm whispering right in her ear, telling her how much I love her, how beautiful she is, how happy I am that I'm with her. I whisper all the things I thought about her in that church, all the things I wanna do now that she's mine forever.

I tell her how I wanna have kids with her, make love to her like this 'til the day I die.

She starts shaking all over. I trail my free hand down her body, feeling her slick, smooth skin, 'til I get where I wanted to go. It don't take long with my hand down there 'til I feel her starting to climax. Her whole body shudders and she lets out this long kinda moan and tosses her head back, pressing as hard as she can into me. I'm happy to follow her. She collapses in my arms, and I catch her and pull her to me tight.

She keeps panting as the sun comes up and I keep right on telling her how much I love her.

I don't think I'm gonna ever get tired of saying it, or hearing her say it right back to me.

Takes some effort to get dressed and drag us both outta the hotel room. The minute we're out in the sun, feeling it warm our skin, Nicole takes the lead, pulling me by the hand to all those places she researched 'fore we got here.

I'm eating foods I ain't never heard of, stumbling through conversations that are a mix of Italian and broken English, posing for more pictures than I've ever taken in my life. When we get tired of walking around, we do get on one of those gondolas.

Some fruity looking guy in tight pants is steering us around. I don't think Nicole notices 'cause she's too busy taking pictures and telling me about all the old buildings we're passing, but the boat guy (or gondolier, according to my wife) is looking a little too hard at Nicole.

Don't take long before he pisses me off. I kinda want to shove him right out the damn boat, take the stick myself. It can't be that fucking hard.

I'm seriously thinking about it when my wife turns around and looks at me funny. I guess I've been thinking so hard that I forgot to respond to whatever she was saying. She takes one look at me and follows my eyes to where I'm glaring daggers at the fruity boat man. He's got the nerve to wink at her, say something slick in Italian. I'm 'bout to get up, but Nicole flips around, looks me straight in the eye.

"Tommy, I'm _so_ glad I married you," she says it in her bedroom voice, so I know that even though Fabio can't understand the words, he knows damn well what's she's talking 'bout. 'Fore I can say anything back she yanks me into one of them deep kisses we don't ever do in public.

By the time she pulls away, I'm flushed and Fabio ain't smirking anymore.

I don't have no more problems listening to my wife talk about architecture. In fact, I kinda start enjoying the ride.

We have dinner, a mix of Italian foods that don't taste nothing like the stuff that passes for Italian back home. I've always been a meat and potatoes kinda guy, but the food over here is fighting to become my favorite. Neither Nicole or me are watching what we eat. We just shovel as much as we can in our mouths, sip as much wine as the waiter can bring us.

By the time we make it back to our suite, we're both laughing up a damn storm. Nicole keeps on making fun of me 'bout the boat guy. Now I know how she feels when women are looking at me. I ain't never noticed,'cept with Pilar, when women look at me, but Nicole sees it everywhere.

I tell her she ain't got nothing to worry 'bout.

"I know," she links her hand in mine as we head up to our room. The suite came with a damn private elevator. Never been one for all those frills rich people love having, but I gotta admit it's nice not having to share my wife with anyone. There's no cameras around, no people taking pictures of us doing regular shit, asking for autographs. I tryta be a good sport about it back in the States, but I think that if someone ran up on me now, I'd get pissed off pretty quick.

We kick our shoes off the minute we get in through the door. Our leftovers go in the fridge and Nicole walks straight to the couch and flops down. She pats the space next to her and I'm quick to follow. She curls up against me and we just sit down, content to be doing nothing for a little while. Feels good after so many months of running around.

In two weeks we'll be back on the grind, me in the gym and her in fronta the camera. It ain't like I mind too much, 'specially since we'll both be coming back to the same house at night. I love that house already, love the splashes of color Nicole added everywhere and the flowers we planted all over the yard. They should be blooming right when we get back. Still though, that big house is kinda empty with just the two of us.

"What are you thinking about?" Nicole stretches her lithe body out against me.

"Kids," I brush her curly hair back from her forehead.

"Already?" she smiles at me.

"Been thinkin' 'bout 'em since I met you, sweetheart," I start massaging her scalp.

"Do you want them now?" she sighs and closes her eyes.

"Do you?" I know I'm dodging the question. She opens one eye and looks at me, telling me to answer without using words. I take a deep breath. "Yeah, Nicole. I want 'em now."

She slowly untangles herself from me. I'm scared for a second that she's upset, that she thinks I'm pressuring her. But she just spins around 'til she's face to face with me. She braces her hands on my shoulder and slowly, her face breaks into a smirk.

"Then we better start trying for one then," she says matter-a-factly like we're talking 'bout the weather or going to the store. She then starts pulling her dress up over her head, real slow, wiggling around and putting on a show for me.

She's got some more of her bridal gifts on, but this one's jet black and there ain't nothing virginal 'bout it. My blood pressure starts spiking, but I wanna be clear we're on the same page.

"This is for real? We're gonna do this?" I know I sound stupid, but she just grins.

"I'll toss my pills out." To drive her point home, she reaches down, fiddles in her purse and then chucks something round and small across the room towards the trash can. Sounds like a maraca as it hits the side of the container.

"Technically," I tease her, "nothing can happen 'til tomorrow," I saw her take her pill this morning.

"Well, we better practice," she runs her hands along my thighs and leans forward to whisper in my ear. "We want to do this right." Her voice sends tingles down my spine.

I don't need more encouragement than that. She giggles as I yank her to me and lay her down.

We go another few hours without clothes on. Sightseeing can wait for a while.

* * *

**This one took a while! I hope you guys all like it. Thanks for your feedback and please continue to let me know what you think.  
**


	17. Chapter 17

"I am pregnant."

I barely get through the door of our house 'fore my wife blurts this out. Takes me a second to process. I still got an autumn chill clinging to my clothes. It was one of them long days that made me wish I had stayed at home instead.

Life ain't exactly been hard lately, but it ain't been a cakewalk neither.

Gotta deal with all the bullshit at work, people clamoring for my attention, telling me I gotta do interviews and play the game to stay relevant.

Wish it was good enough just to be good. But nah, I gotta tap dance for these fools too.

I was pissed all day 'bout something my sponsors said, taking it out on the bag. Don't wanna do commercials, don't wanna walk around looking like a goddamn billboard.

And Nicole's been stressed 'bout shit at work and to top it all off, we've been trying almost every day for 'bout 5 months, ever since our honeymoon, but so far, nothing.

I know it's tearing my wife up, 'specially since her friend got knocked up without even trying.

Don't matter how many times we try. It's hard not to pin all your hopes on it.

You get so excited 'bout it and the letdown is one of the worst things ever. Nicole has been putting on a brave face, but it's wearing her down.

'Cept now she's standing in fronta me, holding something plastic and grinning. S'been a while since I saw her smile like that. I hope this is really it.

"Pregnant?" I drop my gym bag in the corner. I know it's s'posed to go in the closet, but it can wait. Nicole don't even glance down at it.

"I took a test," she swallows hard. I look closer at what's in her hand. Ain't the first time we've done one of those. She hands it to me.

I glance down at it, noticing the little pink plus sign. Don't gotta ask what that means. I musta read that goddamn box half a million times.

Pregnant.

It's like I'm dizzy all the sudden. I gotta sit down. I manage to stumble into the living room, Nicole trailing behind me.

"You're sure?" it's a shitty question to ask, but it's the only one I can think of. Can't take my eyes off that little pink plus sign.

"I took five. Just in case," she says. I can tell she's trying to keep calm, use her reporter voice, but she's on the verge of euphoria. I wanna fall over the edge with her but first I feel her skin; it don't feel hot or nothing, not like she's sick. But she ain't just been throwing up in the morning- last night she barely could keep dinner down. I remind her of this, a little quietly. I don't wanna upset her, but it'll be worse if this is another false alarm.

She surprises me though, when she starts laughing real hard. She must notice the look on my face, 'cause she rushes to explain, "Baby, that's just the _name_ of it." She kisses my cheek, "It doesn't always happen in the morning. Tess said she had it all day with Rosie."

"Pregnant," I repeat it again. "We have to go to the doctor to be sure, but Tommy," she smiles wider, "I've been having morning sickness and my belly is firmer…" she drops down in my lap. "I can feel it. This time is different. This time…" she starts tearing up.

I set the little plastic stick on the coffee table and pull her into me. I kiss her, hard as I can, feeling her melt against me.

I'm squeezing her hard, when a thought occurs to me. There's a baby in there. Oh shit, I could smash it. I pull back, stare at her belly. We made a life, and it's sitting there, in my wife's womb.

Nicole says we should make it outta the first trimester 'fore we start spreading the news.

I ain't one for gossiping, but I want everyone to know- Pop, Brendan and Tess, the guys at work. Hardest secret I've ever had to keep, and I've kept some really damn big ones.

Feels like my heart's gonna jump outta my chest by the time we're in the doctor's office. Nicole's on one of them beds, laying down, watching the doc rub gel all over her. I'm having a problem with anyone but me being down there 'tween my wife's legs, but shit, I ain't no doctor and I really wanna see our baby. I focus on that as an image flickers up on the screen.

"All right," the doctor is talking in that real calming voice they always seem to use. "If you look up on the monitor, you will see the amniotic sac…"

Sounds like he's speaking a different language. I don't understand half the shit he says. But when he draws our attention to a little blinking spot up there on that black and white screen, I understand him perfectly.

A heartbeat. Our baby has a heartbeat.

Nicole starts crying right away. I'm damn close to crying too.

The doctor points out our baby's head, legs, arms, eyes, lungs. Seeing our baby makes it all more real to me. In 7 months, we're gonna have a kid. I'm gonna be a dad.

Brendan is thrilled for me. Nearly knocks me over hugging me. He's the first one I tell.

I know Nicole wants to wait and make an announcement when everyone's at our house for Thanksgiving, but I can't help it. I gotta tell my big brother.

"This is great Tommy." We're standing out in the freezing cold courtyard of his school.

I dropped by at lunch. "How far is she along?"

"'Bout 8 weeks," I'm smiling. Kids are milling 'round a little bit, but thanks to the weather, we're pretty much alone out here.

"Do you want a boy or a girl?"

"Don't care," my answer is instantaneous. "Just want a healthy kid."

I exhale, watching my breath cloud and swirl in fronta me. "I just wanna be a good dad."

Brendan smiles at me. "You will be. I wouldn't worry about that."

"Don't know what I'm doin'." Makes me nervous as hell.

Brendan just laughs. "No one does. Read father-to-be books. The rest you have to take on faith."

Seems like that's all I'm doing lately. Apart from walking on air, I'm worried as hell. In the father-to-be books I'm learning all sorts of shit, like being pregnant is playing with my wife's hormones 'til sometimes I swear she's gonna kill me one minute and jump my bones the next. She's eating shit that don't make sense, running off to the bathroom randomly, crying at commercials on television, worrying that her boobs are leaking.

I try to be supportive. Don't say shit when she drags us to the bookstore and buys a mountain high pile on babies. I read 'em out loud to her, memorizing words like "Linea Nigra" and "postpartum" and "Braxton–Hicks."

We've been taking pregnancy and childbirth classes. I even went to the breastfeeding classes.

I felt like a bull in a china shop at first, but the other guys felt just as awkward as me, so it was alright.

This pregnancy thing seems a helluva lot harder on her than me, so when she complains that she has the belly of a darts champion, or that her boobs are starting to sag, I try not to upset her.

I have a coupla misses, like this morning when she asked, "Baby how are my boobs?"

"Sweetheart they look great."

"But didn't you always tell me that you love my pre-pregnancy boobs?"

"Yeah, but yours look great now too."

"But do you like my new ones or old ones better?"

"…Uh both. You look great. Love you either way."

She sighs and then continues looking in the mirror. She might as well have never asked me.

I meant what I said- I don't care how much she weighs. She's always gonna be beautiful to me. Her being pregnant only makes her more radiant. It's like she's glowing.

But it ain't all bad. She's so happy that it's like living with a Disney princess. It's starting to rub off on me. I'm getting shit from guys at the gym 'bout all the smiling I've been doing.

Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant is often all I can think; got my bell rung real hard at the gym 'cause I can't focus.

Can't help it. I'm gonna be a dad. Makes me ecstatic and scares the shit outta me at the same time.

By the time we announce our pregnancy after the first trimester, advice starts flying outta everyone's mouths. Some of the shit I'm glad for, like the tips on how to make Nicole stop snoring from her dad, or her mom suggesting we buy a body pillow to make her more comfortable. But some of the shit, like Tess tryna predict if we're having a girl or a boy by how high Nicole's four-month baby bump is, or a stranger suggesting buying wood-soled shoes, is crazy.

And everyone's tryna touch her. We walk outside and people flock to her, wanting to ask questions, asking if they can rub her belly. You'd think she was a goddamn genie.

I try to shoo 'em away, but Nicole just smiles, sticks her tummy out. People are happy for us, she tells me.

Strange, thinking there's a buncha strangers out there who give a shit 'bout us, who are rooting for us. But it's kinda nice too.

Only ones who ain't got baby advice are the guys at the gym. They keep asking me if I'm ready for it, like a baby is a terminal illness.

I ain't worried 'bout what Nicole and I will be like, if we'll have fun. Our baby is just gonna add to our happiness. Nothing 'bout it seems like an inconvenience to me. We'll have to take Tess up on her offer to babysit.

The only thing I really am worried 'bout is what kinda dad I'm gonna be. Ain't no question that Nicole's gonna be a great mother. She's got it written all over her.

I don't wanna be like Pop was, or one of them dads who goes to work and comes home, who provides but don't know his own kids. I wanna be there, wanna watch our kids grow up, wanna have memories with them that I'll always remember.

I wanna be old one day, and look back and not regret nothing. But I don't see how I'm gonna be around if I'm always off fighting. I tell Nicole this one day.

"Well, it's not like our baby and I aren't going to be at all of your fights," she says this like she ain't been worried 'bout it. "Wherever you go, Tommy Conlon, we'll be right behind you."

"I just wanna be a dad our kids will be proud of," I tell her.

She smiles. "Even if you go bald, make silly dad jokes, and tuck your shirt into your boxers, we are always going to love you." She climbs into my lap as I laugh, her baby bump brushing my stomach. "And we are always going to be proud of you."

She then starts kissing me urgently. I always thought Nicole had a healthy sex drive, but our baby is kicking it up a notch.

Some nights I barely get through the door before she's ripping my sweats off.

I rub her back with one hand and her belly with the other. She's almost six months along and starting to get even bigger. I trace my hand down to the smooth curves, running over her bellybutton that's an outie now. She leans into my touch. I'm gentle with her now, even though she insists it's ok, that we're not gonna hurt our baby. But I say no dice; it's gonna be soft touches and slow kisses for now. Rough sex can wait another coupla months.

I hold her tight at night, thinking 'bout the nursery that's coming together, 'bout all the baby proofing we still gotta do. I'm starting to get a little bit stressed 'bout it, 'bout all the stuff we still need to do. Just when I get myself all riled up, I feel a soft motion under my hand. My palms are pressed face down on my wife's belly. It can only be one thing.

The next hard kick confirms it. Our baby is moving around. Nicole always says she can feel it, but this is my first time. 'Fore I know it, I'm crying.

My wife shifts next to me. I know she's looking up at me. She don't say nothing, just leans up to kiss me and puts her hand over mine. We lay there real quiet, listening to our baby on our fetal Doppler monitor. Nicole starts whispering, talking to our baby like it's already out, like it can hear us. She's talking 'bout the plans we have, 'bout how he'll be out right in time for the summer. She's talking 'bout going to barbeques and meeting Emily and Rosie and Luke. She says she hopes our baby has sapphire eyes and big soft lips like mine, hair like hers.

She looks up at me again, "Want to say anything, daddy?"

"Dunno what to say," I whisper.

She shrugs, "Just talk."

So I do. I tell our baby 'bout how excited I am, how much I want the little guy or girl to be here. I run baby names by it. I start off with basic ones, Dave and Joe and Annie and Lizzy. Nicole throws her own in, starting with Zander and Aiden and getting more ridiculous as we go. Our baby starts kicking again.

"Really though, what do you wanna name the baby if it's a girl?" I ask.

Nicole lays still, thinking hard. "Naomi. Or Lily." I tell her I like both. I can see a little curly headed girl, excitable like her mom. She'd need an interesting name.

"What 'bout for boys?" I ask.

"I like your middle name."

"Edward?" I scoff a little. "Sounds like some fruity king's name."

"What about Eddie?" she laughs a little bit. "Reverse your name? Edward Thomas?"

"Kinda formal." And I'm not sure I want my son to have exactly my name. I want him to be the good parts of me, but not me exactly.

"What if we give him Brendan's name? Edward Brendan. Call him Eddie."

She repeats it, rolling the name 'round on her tongue. "I like it."

Beneath our hands, our baby starts rolling and kicking. "I think he likes it too," I say, kissing my wife.

Sure enough, when we go to our next ultra sound, the doctor tells us we're having a boy.

We already start calling him Eddie, talking to him and playing music for him.

Rosie and Emily visit us and spend an hour reading kiddy books to Nicole's belly.

The baby book says when he's born, he'll recognize our voices. I hope it's true.

Nicole decided she wants to give birth to our son at home. I thought she was nuts at first, throwing centuries of medical science out the window like that, but she explained she don't wanna be just another patient at the hospital shooting out yet another baby. She wanted to do things her way, in her own home, on her own time. There won't be no cameras at our house, she said. She don't wanna turn this into a reality TV event. I can respect that.

Even though Nicole said she's "low risk" for complications, I'm still wary of having her give birth at home, 'specially 'cause she chose a _male_ midwife.

I dunno why, outta all of them, she chose a fucking _man_. There's only gotta be a couple in America and he's delivering _ours_? I kinda just don't want another man that close to my wife's business.

The name of the midwife she chose is Justin.

I expected some real sensitive guy, one of them metro-sexual types, but this guy is a good-looking blonde, an Ivy-league, polo-wearing, white-toothed douche who I now gotta tolerate for my wife and son's sake.

But Nicole trusts him and says he knows what he's doing. But I swear, if his fingers slip anywhere they ain't s'posed to be, he's gonna be the one who needs a damn doctor.

She's getting so big she's having a hard time getting around and strangers ask us all the time if we're having multiples.

I'm kinda her maid, helping her put her shoes on, giving her daily foot massages, helping her up the stairs and outta bed in the mornings.

She's still working though, even though I wish she'd stay home. I've started picking her up from work. I'm paranoid she's gonna go into labor when I ain't with her.

I ain't fought in a month. I turned down fighting Lyoto Machida only 'cause I'd haveta fly to fucking Brazil.

Luckily my boss Dana White understood my refusal to miss the birth of my child.

So I've stayed home in Bristol, working out, practicing putting diapers on a baby doll, attending birthing classes with Nicole and just waiting.

I'm outside, doing lawn work when I hear a crash in our house.

It's the middle of May and it's starting to warm up. Nicole has been home the last coupla days. Our due date came and went a week ago. Feels like Eddie's in no hurry to get out.

"Tommy!" My wife's scream sends a bolt of panic right through me. I run back into the house with the lawnmower outside still running. I can't get to her fast enough.

She's standing in the living room, looking down, shocked, at a puddle on the floor.

She's shaking all over and has one hand on her belly real protective, "I think my water just broke."

* * *

**Sorry for the loooooong delay. It's been hard to find time to write. Big thanks to Tallulah, as usual, for keeping me on the ball. And again, thank you to all of you reviewers who are hanging in there with me. Please let me know what you think about this one!  
**


	18. Chapter 18

"Are you ready to push, Mrs. Conlon?" Pretty boy Justin is stationed 'tween my wife's legs.

I've forgotten all 'bout being pissed 'bout it, 'cause I'm right behind him, staring with a kinda horrified fascination at what's happening.

Eddie's coming. Took him three and a half damn hours to get 'round to it. Nicole's been trying not to show it, but it's wearing her down. Every coupla minutes she's been grimacing, gripping my hand like she's tryna break my bones.

"You breathin' sweetheart?" I know it's a stupid question, but she's starting to turn purple.

Her curly hair is soaked in sweat. "I just want to wait," she screws her face up again. I know she's in terrible pain.

I reach for her hand; it upsets me there's not a lot I can do. My instinct is to cuddle her, to try and protect her and make the pain go away, but of course it won't.

"Wait for what?" I know the answer before she tells me. "Our family."

Her parents hopped a plane, but there ain't a whole lotta hope of them getting over here 'fore Eddie comes into this world. But Brendan and Tess are driving like a bat outta hell to get here. Pop is with 'em.

I want my brother here as much as she does, but I don't want her tryna cross her legs and hold our son in. I tell her so.

"They said they're almost here," she gasps. I look over at Justin for help. Can't believe I'm relying on this fruitcake, but I'm desperate.

"Mrs. Conlon," pretty boy starts again, real slow and soft like he's talking to a startled animal.

"I know you want your family here, but your son is coming. I think it is time to get ready to push…"

"I _know_ he is coming," my wife snaps, "You think I can't _feel_ it?"

Her anger shocks Justin into silence. Even I'm surprised. But I can see my wife, that tell-tell wrinkle forming between her brows. She's seconds away from a breakdown.

"Justin," I think it's the first time I used that man's name. He snaps his head 'round to me.

"Can you give us a minute?"

The kid nods and hightails it outta the room. I don't know what the protocol is for tipping your midwife, but I'm gonna have to slide him a few bucks for taking our abuse.

I walk over to our bed and climb up on it. It's the bed we bought right after I proposed, the bed I come home to every night, the only bed I've ever truly slept well in, the one Eddie was conceived in. And now it's gonna be the place our first kid is born.

I barely get in next to her, when she lets her head collapse on my shoulder. She's exhausted.

I stroke her damp, curly hair and press a kiss to her forehead.

"You scared?" It ain't really a question, but I want her to talk to me 'bout it. She nods, starts tearing up. I wipe 'em away. "You're gonna be great at this," I whisper in her ear.

It's hard to get close to her with all the damn monitors in the room, but I hold her tight as I can.

"Even if Brendan, Tess and Pop and your parents don't get here in time, you got me, sweetheart. And soon, we're both gonna have Eddie too."

She turns her face toward me. "What if it's not all ok?" she asks quietly. "What if something goes wrong?"

"It won't." I don't know how I know, but it's there, certain as the sky is blue.

She nods, once, twice. "Ok," she whispers, wiping her face. "Ok." It comes out louder this time.

I stand up, give her a peck on the lips, "Let's do this."

Justin comes back in. If he's surprised by Nicole's change in mood, he don't say nothing. I like him just a little bit more.

"Ready?" he asks. Nicole takes a deep breath. "Ready."

All them damn breathing and panting classes we took start coming in handy. I'm breathing right along with my wife, trying to keep calm.

My main role is talking her through the breathing, applying pressure to her back where it hurts, and supporting her body.

I don't even hear the front door opening, or the footsteps rushing up the damn stairs.

Tess bursts in right when Nicole starts crowning. She gasps in surprise as my wife lets out a wail to wake the dead.

I chance a peek down 'tween her legs and nearly fall over. I've seen a lot of blood and guts in my life, but ain't never seen nothing like that. A head, a _goddamn head_ is coming out of my wife. It's got a ton of brunette hair.

Our son.

He emerges one bloody, goopy inch at a time.

I feel Brendan dancing 'round in the doorway, afraid to come in. Tess is washing her hands, running to the side of the bed. I suddenly appreciate the fact that we're having Eddie at home.

This is a moment I don't wanna share with no one who ain't family. I'd deliver Eddie myself if I could.

My whole life I've heard 'bout the miracle of birth, how beautiful it all is. I can tell you for a fact there ain't nothing pretty 'bout it. It's blood and sweat and screaming and ripping and pain and parts of my wife stretching out so big I don't know how it'll ever shrink back down again.

Brendan just keeps muttering cuss words under his breath, and I know I'm close to echoing him. Tess looks excited, keeps coaching my wife, telling her how good she's doing.

I don't know what I'm saying. I'm just holding her hand and tryna stay conscious.

"One big push and you're past the shoulders," Justin announces cheerfully.

Nicole bears down with a wail and then we hear it.

A baby crying.

Eddie's out all at once, a slippery mess of a human being. The whole room goes silent as he cries, flailing tiny little fists. Justin does his thing, sweeping 'round with towels and blankets, whirling like a tornado. Then he puts Eddie down, very gently, on Nicole's chest.

My wife promptly bursts into tears. I'm shaking as I cut the cord, terrified to hurt this impossibly small little person we made.

Suddenly I recognize my son as if I've been waiting for him all my life without ever even knowing it.

"Congratulations son," scares me when I hear Pop's voice behind me. He's been standing there the whole time in the doorway, quietly watching the whole thing.

I stare at my dad for a long moment, tryna think of something to say. I feel a second of hot panic sear through me, a sudden fear that I'll turn into the kinda dad that Pop was. It ain't like I have any other example to look up to.

But there's something in Pop's eyes now, as he stares down at his first grandson, and it looks a helluvalot like pride. I ain't used to seeing that from my dad unless I win a fight.

Brendan must notice the tension between us 'cause he steps in the middle of us and pulls Pop toward him, into the room. We three Conlon men stand in a line, looking down at the newest member of our family. Three generations of men.

"He's beautiful," Pop grunts.

"Thanks Pop," I can't bring myself to meet his eyes. I'm staring instead at Nicole cooing down at our son.

It's like a balloon is swelling up in my chest. Always thought the heart only had so much love, and you just sorta divided it up 'tween folks. I thought I'd never love anyone a fraction as much as I love Nicole. I figured I didn't have the space for it.

But now, it's like some secret door in me opened. What I feel for Eddie is different than Nicole, different than Brendan and Tess and their kids, different than Manny and Ma and Pop.

It's like instinct. I want to take every fall for him, teach him everything I know. I want him to be better than me, to be the best at anything he wants.

I want the whole world for him. I wanna protect him from all the bad, give him the childhood I wish I had.

It's a terrifying and exciting feeling. I hope I'm up for the task.

"What is his name?" Tess reaches down to touch Eddie's head gently.

"Edward," Nicole says. She's still crying a little bit.

"Edward Brendan Conlon," I say. "We're gonna call him Eddie."

Nicole picks Eddie up and holds him out to me. I've had plenty of practice holding baby dolls, but never the real thing.

He don't weigh much. Feels like I'm gonna crush him, just tryna get him situated in my arms. His whole body is barely as big as one of my biceps. He starts squirming a little bit, his tiny hands opening and closing. I do a quick count; he's got the right number of fingers and toes.

His skin is light, but with a hint of color I know I didn't have at his age. His hair is the same color as mine and already wavy.

He opens his eyes and peeks up at me. I'm surprised to see my own eyes in his tiny little face, sapphire-grey and intelligent. They focus on me as his little hand grips my finger tightly, with surprising strength. I feel myself getting choked up. I rock him for a little while 'fore the rest of the room can't take it anymore and I gotta pass him around.

Tess coos and smiles at Eddie like an old pro, Brendan holds him quietly, smiling, Pop looks surprised but happy and even Justin gets a turn.

I want time alone with my brand new family, but I know it's gonna be a while. So I let Justin handle cleaning up my wife and son and sweep my Pop and brother and sister-in-law downstairs so they can have some rest.

It ain't 'til Tess is in the kitchen whipping up dinner that Brendan looks at me.

"You gave him my name." It ain't a question. I glance up at my big brother.

He looks overwhelmed. I didn't expect that from him. He always manages to stay cool, our whole life. I used to be the emotional one.

"It's a good name." I can't meet his eyes. "Thought it might give him a role model to look up to."

"Eddie has that in you Tommy."

Takes every inch of control I've got not to cry. I settle instead for giving Brendan a hug.

I'm slowly getting better at this "emotions" thing.

The next coupla hours are a blend. Our house becomes packed within hours. Everyone is clamoring to see Nicole, to see Eddie. Dwayne and Linda arrive in a tornado of excitement and baby presents. I put the gifts in the nursery with the mountains of other stuff Eddie got.

Brendan and Tess go in one guestroom, Dwayne and Linda go in another. Pop's in the room right by the master bedroom, sharing it with Justin. The midwife wants to monitor Eddie for the night, but he sure as shit ain't staying in the room with me and Nicole.

It'll be good for him to spend some time with Pop. Might toughen him up a little bit.

We all seem to fall into exhaustion all at once. I make my escape back to my room, wanting to be with my wife and child. Nicole is in bed, holding Eddie, half asleep, still humming to him.

I slip outta my sweats and slide into our now clean bed. I'm hoping Nicole doesn't wanna save the sheets from earlier. I think Eddie is a good enough souvenir.

"You did it," I kiss her lightly on the lips, pulling my family as close to my side as I can.

"_We _did it," she corrects with a smile.

I stroke Eddie's head softly. His face is buried in my wife's chest. I start thinking 'bout all the shit we've learned in parenting classes, the breast feeding tips, diapers, organic baby foods, cradle crap and colic. We've got a long road ahead of us. There ain't no one I'd rather be on it with than Nicole.

I kiss her again, harder this time, tell her how beautiful she is. She looks dangerously close to crying again.

"I love you," she whispers.

"Love you too," I kiss her, then Eddie.

I spend the rest of the night quietly in my room, listening to Eddie's little baby noises and Nicole singing to him.

It's a pretty damn good way to pass a night.

That is, 'til Eddie wakes up crying. Turns out our son ain't a fan of sleeping through the night. The boy has no concept of day and night. He wakes up whenever he wants to, wailing his little lungs out.

Nicole and I take turns getting up. Most of the time, he's crying to be fed, but sometimes it seems like he's just screaming for the hell of it.

Sometimes it's enough to just hold him. Something 'bout being near me and Nicole calms him down. Trouble is, he don't want us to sit down and hold him. You gotta stand up. And I figure since Nicole does all the breastfeeding, I can do the rocking. It's only fair.

I feel like a zombie, pacing back and forth at night with Eddie bouncing around in my arms.

He likes the sound of my voice, so I tell him stories while his mom sleeps. Sometimes I tell him fight stories, or things I remember my ma telling me. Sometimes I just make stuff up, nonsense tales that don't make no sense, but are fun to tell.

If I'm real tired, I just talk. I tell him 'bout my day. He's a great listener.

He just ain't a great sleeper. I'm starting to sneak naps anywhere I can get 'em. Sometimes I fall asleep changing in the locker room. I swear I fell asleep jump roping the other day.

I've cut down on my gym time, not wanting to miss more of Eddie growing up than I have to.

I get jealous of Nicole. She's home with him all the time, at least for the first three months. She loves everything 'bout being a mom. She can tell Eddie's cries apart, knows when it's for food or diapers or just being held. I think I'm starting to get the hang of it too.

I can change a diaper in under a minute, know what temperature I gotta heat Nicole's breastmilk to for Eddie to take it, know how hot he likes his bath water and how to get a squirming infant snapped into a onesie.

I'm doing shit I never dreamed of, carrying diaper bags, wearing burp cloths, rumbling out lullabies. Brendan laughs his ass off every time he sees me.

It ain't like I got cuddly written all over me, but Eddie doesn't seem to mind.

I like taking him to the park. He's big enough to hold his head up. He loves taking in the world, his eyes wide as saucers. So I try to take him to as many interesting places as I can.

Three months later, Nicole goes back to work. She cries her eyes out, considers being a stay at home mom. But she loves her job and she's damn good at it. So we work something out.

I go to the gym as early as I can, so I'm home when she leaves. And then I get our son all to myself 'til she gets home.

I love those moments, love carrying him 'round in his baby carrier, love taking him to the mall and to the zoo, to the gym to watch the training. I get plenty of shit from the guys, but I know they're starting to like Eddie. I've seen men who ain't been soft a day in their lives, cooing at Eddie and making stupid faces.

He's so cute he sucks up all the attention. People have stopped even looking at Nicole and me. The minute we walk into a room, they all swoop for Eddie. We got everyone clamoring to babysit, everyone tryna hold him or feed him, burp him or bounce him in his baby walker. It's hard sharing him, but I like that other people seem to love him as much as Nicole and I do.

And I ain't gonna lie. It's nice when Brendan and Tess and the girls drive up and babysit to give Nicole and I alone time. The first coupla times, I swear we only slept. We were too tired to do anything more than cuddle and fall asleep. But now it's back to normal.

Nicole was self-conscious 'bout her post-baby body, worried 'bout what I'd think.

I don't give a shit 'bout her stretch marks, or that she insists her boobs aren't as perky or that her tummy's got some extra flab.

She's the mother of my child and there ain't nothing sexier in the world than her naked.

I kiss her everywhere to prove it, make love to her like it's new. In a way, it is.

We didn't have sex at all right 'fore Eddie was born and then for the 6 weeks after.

So when I get her all to myself, I ain't wasting time.

She's probably gonna end up pregnant again 'fore too long. Both of us are ok with that.

It's like we're living in this happy bubble. The smallest shit makes me happy. If Eddie burps or sneezes or laughs, it's like something magical happened. I'm taking pictures of everything, videotaping him doing nothing, eating yogurt for the first time, crawling and babbling. He likes music and tries to sing along. He's got Nicole's wide, ready smile, my temper, his mom's wavy hair and my sapphire eyes and big lips. He loves seeing animals, but don't like being alone for more than a coupla seconds.

We play hours of peekaboo, sing nursery rhymes 'til I hear 'em in my sleep. We read books about red dogs and colorful fish over and over again.

It never gets old. It's like we got a neon sign flashing over us, like smiles are etched into our faces.

Even when it's hard, like when Eddie had colic, or when we discovered he'd rather throw rice cereal all over the walls than eat it, or when he started crawling and putting everything he could reach in his mouth, we're still happy.

Nothing I love more than listening to Nicole sing and read to him, or just sitting quietly with my little family in the mornings, watching _Sesame Street_ with Eddie laying on my chest.

Maybe I'm starting to mellow out a little. I'm smiling in public, getting along better with folks at work. The small shit just ain't bothering me like it used to. I was worried that it might make me soft in the ring. But it's the same. I step in the cage, and the real world falls away.

If anything, I'm fighting harder now. I want Eddie to be impressed when he's old enough to understand. I want him to know his daddy was a contender.

He grows up fast, faster than I thought was possible. He starts walking early, getting in to everything. He likes to talk, likes to shout words like "bird" and "dada" and "mama" at the top of his lungs for our amusement.

And now, at 8 months old, his new favorite word is "baby."

Might be 'cause Nicole and I are expecting another one.

I don't care 'bout the teasing, 'bout the folks telling me to keep it in my pants, or saying that maybe we should've waited a little bit.

If I've learned anything, it's that life happens on its own time, and operates on its own plan.

And if life wants to keep heaping blessings on me, then I sure ain't complaining.

* * *

**Thank you to everyone, especially Tallulah Lullah, for your patience! Your support means more to me than you could possibly know. For now though, I think that it is time to come to the end of this story. Be on the look out for an epilogue, and again, thank you all for your reviews and kind words and suggestions!  
**


	19. Epilogue

It's cold outside, but warm under the covers with Nicole, the perfect kind of day to spend in bed. I ain't really been sleeping so much as just laying 'round, drifting in and out of thoughts.

Nicole is pressed hard against me, the way she sleeps every night, using whatever part of me is closest for a pillow. This morning it's my chest. She's twisted 'round me like one of them fuzzy Koala Bear pencil things that our daughter Tina likes so much.

I tighten my grip on her, rolling her under me slowly. I got a plan for how I want this morning to go, 'specially since it's been a coupla days since we last had sex. Work and running around with the kids have been kicking our ass. I'm craving any scrap of alone time with Nicole I can get.

I kiss her softly behind her ear, then her forehead, then her chin. She stirs against me, arching her back and pushing her body up into mine.

"Good morning, baby," she mumbles without opening her eyes.

I begin rubbing small circles into her back. She smiles a little, stretching her lithe body.

"What's the occasion for all this pampering?" she asks, mischief evident in her voice.

"The kids ain't up yet," I lean down to whisper in her ear.

"What do you have in mind?" Her grin widens.

"I gotta coupla ideas," I lower my voice, using that deep rumble I know gets her every time.

Sure enough, she lets out a tiny gasp, running her hands over my naked chest.

She drags her fingers up, past the list of all our kids' birthdays tattooed right over my heart.

Her hands eventually find their way into my hair. I know it's a mess; it's getting longish, and sticks up all over the place in the mornings. But then again, her hair's all over the place too, floating around as though it's being pushed by a breeze, like a halo 'round her head.

We got over tryna look pretty for each other all the time a while ago. Comes with the territory of being a parent. We gotta look good for work, her in her heels, me with a workout regimen that ain't quit even though I'm retired. We got our roles in the public eye, our parts to play.

'Specially now that I got my gym. Gave it my family name, Conlon Fight Club. It's the one thing I know I'm good at, fighting, and I'm happy to share the experience with other folks. We don't train the big wigs so much as kids who are looking for their shot. If they've got the drive, I'll help them hone the talent. Got all sorts of kids in there, some from privilege, most from the wrong side of the tracks. It's my small way of helping, giving these guys an outlet. Wish I had it when I was a teen.

The gym gets a lotta attention. Always got reporters in there doing stories. The only one I'm ever real happy to see is Nicole. She's still coaching me through interviews, a damn decade after us meeting.

But at home, it's just her and me. She knows my every dirty secret, seen me at my worst, like the time Eddie brought home strep throat last Christmas and knocked us all out one by one. I've seen her with morning sickness, the flu, so dog tired that she looked like she's been spun around in a tornado. She's seen me bleeding, bruised, dirty from lawn work that never seems to be finished.

Four kids are constant work. They're like little hurricanes, whipping 'round in a pile of dirty laundry and messy hair and homework and projects and finger paints and too-small-shoes-that-fit-last-week and temper tantrums. It's like a damn circus some days.

Eddie, our oldest, is a good kid at heart, but he's got my temper and talent for getting in trouble on top of my looks. Wish I had a dollar for every time I've been in the principal's office with him. Used to yell 'til I was blue in the face, but it don't matter. Ed's gonna be Ed, no matter what we do. So we got him in every sport imaginable, tryna burn off his energy in a productive way.

Ten years old and he's already a helluva wrestler. Got that Conlon blood. Someday he might follow my footsteps and fight in the UFC. We'll see. He sure has the potential. Pop wants to train him in boxing. There's always that possibility too. Even though I love all of my children equally in their own way, Eddie holds a special place in my heart 'cause he reminds me of myself when I was younger. Knowing my son looks up to me makes me a better man every day.

Nick is our next son. He's as calm as Eddie is wild. Patient, like Nicole. Even looks like her, 'cept his skin is just about my color. He don't mind fighting, but he ain't too passionate 'bout doing it either. He's only a year younger than Ed. Loves to come to the gym with us and just cheer us on, talk to other fighters. Swear that boy speaks like a goddamn adult. He's too smart sometimes, got a talent for sarcasm like his mother.

He's just a ball of charisma, charming whoever he comes in contact with. Gonna be a ladies' man one day, I can tell. Him and Ed are close, even though they fight like puppy pitbulls when Nicole and I turn around.

Tina is 5, just starting kindergarten. She wants to be older, just like her brothers. Follows 'em around, tryna get 'em to play dress up and dolls and tea parties. Most of the time she can charm Nick into it, but I've seen Eddie clacking Barbies with her a coupla times. I don't say nothing. I like that they get along.

Tina's got wild, light-colored hair that sticks up out of her ponytails no matter how hard we try to brush it down. She's a wild child, always coming home from school with punch or paint staining her pretty clothes. That girl loves pretty things but can't keep 'em clean. She's plucky and curious, always touching and poking and prodding and asking me and her mom how things work. Think she might be an engineer or scientist one day.

The baby is Layla. She's just coming up on her terrible twos. She has her mom's dark, curly hair, my coloring, my eyes, my mouth, her mom's nose. Looks like the perfect combination of both of us, more than the rest of our kids. She likes to laugh, likes to toddle after her siblings, likes to dance to music and seeing her mom on the television. She likes to lay down on the floor with me and watch Monday Night Football.

She also likes throwing tantrums and getting into everything. And it's her cries that we hear just as I start kissing my wife.

Nicole sighs, throwing me a sympathetic look. Ain't no use tryna ignore it. Layla screams loud enough to wake the dead.

Sure enough, 'fore we can even get the covers back, Nick comes in, holding her. His hair is sticking up and he's got his race car slippers on.

"_Mom_," he's whining and it ain't even 8 in the morning yet. "Layla _smells_."

He ain't lying. Potty training is slow going with our youngest. Nicole snatches her up and drops a kiss on both of their heads.

"Thank you, Nick, for getting her up," she's got on her mom voice. It's syrupy, sweeter than her television voice or her bedroom voice. It disappears quick though when our kids act up.

Nick jumps on the bed, wiggling his way in 'til he's sitting right on top of my legs. I lift 'em up so he goes rolling back into me, squealing in delight. It ain't much longer that him and Ed are gonna be little like this. Gotta take advantage of it while I can.

Nick squirms around, tryna get me in some kind of wrestling hold Eddie musta shown him.

Nicole smiles, pulls herself out of bed. "Be good you two," she gently admonishes and she goes off to deal with Layla.

No chance of that. It ain't long 'fore Eddie's in on the action and we've completely demolished the sheets on the bed. The fighting stops though when Nicole walks back in the room and throws a look that's more effective than her yelling could ever be.

I fix the sheets and Eddie and Nick go about the task of getting Tina up. That girl could sleep through an earthquake. Soon enough though, our whole brood is up, still in their pajamas, waiting for eggs and pancakes, our Saturday morning ritual.

I'm concentrating on making Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes when I hear the kids start shouting real excited.

It's starting to snow, the first of the year. Ain't quite Thanksgiving yet, but we're already starting to get winter.

All four of their little faces are pressed to the window, leaving smudges. I don't bother making 'em stop. It ain't worth the struggle.

Nicole smiles at me over a plate of scrambled eggs. She sets it down on our kitchen table.

"What should we do today, guys?" she asks real happy.

They all stop, contemplating the question like it's some kinda all-important thing. They compare notes, suggesting things like the park or the zoo. Tina throws out Disneyland, but we quickly shoot that one down.

We're saving that trip for Christmas time anyway. The whole family, both sides, are coming. Kids don't know yet though. Can't have 'em too excited, too soon.

"How 'bout we do nothin'?" I suggest around a mouthful of syrup and blueberry pancake.

"Stay in our pajamas, watch movies, eat snacks and wait for there to be enough snow to play in?" Nicole asks. She makes the idea sound way more appealing than I did.

That's exactly what we do. There's a whole stack of kids' movies on the coffee table. We go through the motions of voting for which one to watch first, settling on the gender-neutral _Toy Story 3_.

The guys at the gym would laugh if they saw me now, laying on the couch, laughing at shit animated Barbie dolls are saying.

If someone had told me 15 years ago that this is where I'd end up, I'd have laughed in their face.

But as I listen to my kid's little voices laughing and feel Nicole playing with my hair, the way she always does, and see the snow falling down and feel the warmth in my house, I feel like I ended up exactly where I wanted to be.

I've lost track of how many I've had by now, pages and pages of good memories I've written here in my book, how many baby pictures and crayon drawings of my family I've glued in here. I read my books every once in a while, to remind myself how lucky I am.

"What are you thinking about?" Nicole leans over to whisper in my ear as Nick and Eddie argue over whether we should watch _Tangled _or _How to Train Your Dragon_.

"This chaos we live in," I say, reaching down to pull Eddie off Nick. Nicole shakes her head a little as I become the temporary bad guy, putting in Tina's choice of movie, _the Princess and the Frog_.

"It's crazy, isn't it?" she asks as I settle back on the couch, drawing Nicole into my lap. Eddie and Nick are pouting, but they'll get over it. Tina's twirling around, she's so happy and Layla is yelling at the top of her lungs just to hear her own voice.

"Nah," I pull her face to mine for a deep kiss to a chorus of juvenile "ewwwwwws!"

"It's perfect."

* * *

**That's all folks! Thank you again so much!**


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